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S  v 


EDUCATIONAL   AIMS   AND 
METHODS 


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EDUCATIONAL     AIMS 
AND    METHODS 

LECTURES  AND  ADDRESSES 


ST,-  OL 

LOS  .  iA 


BY 


SIR   JOSHUA   FITCH,  M.A.,  LL.D. 

LATE  HER  MAJESTY'S  INSPECTOR  OF  TRAINING  COLLEGES 

AUTHOR   OF  "  LECTURES  ON  TEACHING,"    "  NOTES  ON  AMERICAN 

SCHOOLS  AND  TRAINING  COLLEGES  " 


S0&8 


THE   MACMILLAN    COMPANY 

LONDON:   MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  Ltd. 
I9OO 

All  rights  reserved 


Copyright,  1900, 
Bv  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


Nortoooti  53rc33 

J.  S.  Cushing  &  Co.  -  Berwick  &  Smith 

Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


n ' 


PREFACE 

The  lectures  and  addresses  collected  in  this  volume 
have  been  given  at  various  times  within  the  last  few 
years  before  different  academic  audiences  in  England  or 
America,  including  the  University  of  Cambridge,  the  Col- 
\  lege  Association  of  Pennsylvania,  the  American  Institute 
of  Instruction,  the  Oxford  Conference  on  University  Ex- 
tension, the  College  of  Preceptors,  the  Teachers'  Guild, 
and  other  bodies  interested  in  educational  questions. 

In  my  former  volume,  '  Lectures  on  Teaching,'  an 
attempt  was  made  to  discuss  in  succession  the  principles 
which  should  be  borne  in  mind  in  connexion  with  each 
of  the  subjects  of  ordinary  school  instruction,  and  with 
the  methods  of  teaching  and  discipline  generally.  The 
present  volume  is  more  miscellaneous  and  less  systematic 
in  its  character.  But  it  deals  with  some  aspects  of  edu- 
cational work  to  which  my  own  attention,  during  a  long 
official  life,  has  been  specially  directed,  and  which,  though 
not  usually  dealt  with  in  formal  treatises  on  pedagogy, 
deserve  and  often  demand  the  consideration  of  those  who 
as  teachers,  school  trustees,  or  legislators  possess  influence 
in  determining  the  goal  to  be  attained  in  public  education, 
and  the  processes  by  which  that  goal  can  best  be  reached. 

In  forming  our  ideal  of  the  function  of  a  school,  we 
cannot  afford  to  overlook  the  border-land  which  separates 
its  corporate  life  from  the  larger  life  of  the  family  and  the 


vi  Preface 

community,  nor  the  light  which  is  shed  on  educational 
problems  by  history,  by  social  and  industrial  necessities, 
by  religious  controversies,  and  by  political  events.  It  has 
become  more  and  more  evident  of  late  that  the  true  science 
of  education  of  the  future  must  include  within  its  scope 
the  history  of  former  speculations,  ideas,  and  experiments, 
and  the  reasons  why  some  of  them  have  succeeded  and 
others  failed.  I  have  therefore  thought  it  right  to  include 
in  this  volume  two  or  three  monographs  on  the  life  and 
work  of  prominent  teachers.  These  studies  may  serve  to 
show  how  varied  are  the  instruments,  and  how  widely  dif- 
ferent the  motive  forces  which  have  in  successive  periods 
of  our  history  contributed  to  the  establishment  of  insti- 
tutions and  to  the  formation  of  opinion  on  educational 
subjects.  They  will,  I  hope,  leave  on  the  reader's  mind 
a  conviction  of  the  great  debt  we  owe  to  those  who,  under 
divers  conditions,  with  more  or  less  imperfect  vision  of  the 
future,  but  with  an  honest  desire  to  meet  the  intellectual 
needs  of  their  own  times,  brought  their  best  powers  and 
resources  to  bear  on  the  elucidation  of  the  principles,  and 
the  improvement  of  the  practice  of  public  instruction. 
And  if  this  retrospect  also  leaves  on  the  mind  of  the 
reader  a  strong  sense,  not  only  of  the  value,  but  of  the 
inadequacy,  of  what  has  hitherto  been  done,  and  also 
serves  to  show  how  boundless  and  full  of  promise  is  the 
field  which  yet  lies  open  to  the  future  worker  and  explorer, 
my  purpose  in  consenting  to  the  collective  publication  of 
these  occasional  lectures  will  have  been  amply  fulfilled. 

Easter,  1900. 


CONTENTS 


LECTURE   I 

METHODS   OF   INSTRUCTION   AS   ILLUSTRATED   IN   THE   BIBLE 

The  Bible  a  teaching  book.  Teaching  by  Symbol.  Limitations  to  the  value 
.  of  symbolic  acts,  in  ethical  training.  Direct  injunction.  Peremptoriness. 
The  Law  repeated  with  new  sanctions  and  personal  appeals.  The  Sermon 
on  the  Mount.  Rewards.  The  true  ambition  of  life.  Poetry  as  a  factor 
in  education.  Matthew  Arnold's  use  of  the  Book  of  Isaiah.  What  poetry 
is  suited  for  children.  Characteristics  of  Hebrew  poetry.  Reduplication 
of  thought.  Stereotyped  formularies  and  creeds.  Proverbs  better  suited 
to  older  than  to  younger  learners.  Biography.  National  portraits.  Ex- 
amples of  greatness.  Narrative  power.  Parables.  Illustrations  from 
Nature.  False  and  strained  moralizing  from  Nature.  Co-operation  of 
teacher  and  taught  in  the  solution  of  problems.  Vision  and  medita- 
tion. Dreamy  and  imaginative  scholars  not  to  be  discouraged.  Con- 
clusions   ..........'..     1-45 

LECTURE    II 

SOCRATES   AND    HIS    METHODS    OF   TEACHING 

State  of  Athens  in  the  time  of  Socrates.  The  intellectual  discipline  of  the 
Athenians.  The  art  of  Oratory.  Socrates  and  his  conversations.  His 
disciples  and  reporters.  A  Socratic  dialogue.  Negative  results  not  nec- 
essarily fruitless.  Investigation  of  words  and  their  meanings.  Some 
methods  more  fitting  for  adults  than  for  young  learners.  Ambiguity  and 
verbal  confusion.  Gorgias.  Relation  of  virtue  to  knowledge.  The 
dai/xuv  of  Socrates.  Oracles.  Conversation  an  educational  instrument. 
Need  for  occasional  colloquies  with  elder  scholars.  Subjects  suited  for 
such  colloquies.  Handicraft.  Physical  Science.  The  doctrine  of  remi- 
niscence. Pre-natal  existence.  Socrates  a  preacher  of  righteousness. 
The  accusation  against  him.     His  death  .....     46-80 

vii 


viii  Contents 

LECTURE    III 

THE  EVOLUTION  OF  CHARACTER 
Charles  Darwin.  The  main  doctrines  of  Evolution.  Their  application  to 
social  life.  Limits  to  the  use  of  analogy.  Character  a  growth,  not  a 
manufacture.  Intellectual  food  and  digestion.  Punishments.  Moral 
precepts.  When  general  rules  are  operative.  Didactic  teaching.  Expe- 
riences of  childhood.  The  law  of  environment.  The  conditions  of  our 
life  as  determinants  of  character  How  far  these  conditions  are  alterable 
at  will.  The  moral  atmosphere  of  a  school.  Influence  of  the  teacher's 
personal  character.  Natural  selection.  (^Conscious  selection  of  the  fittest 
conditions.  Degeneration.  Unused  facultiEsT—  Progression  or  retrogres- 
sion. The  law  of  divergence  in  plants  and  animals,  in  social  institutions, 
and  in  intellectual  character.  Special  aptitudes  and  tastes.  How  far 
they  should  be  encouraged.  Eccentricity.  Evolution  a  hopeful  creed. 
The  promise  of  the  future  ........       81-113 

LECTURE   IV 

THE  TRAINING  OF  THE  REASON 
The  art  of  thinking.  Reason  v.  understanding.  Two  processes  of  arriving 
at  truth.  The  deductive  process,  e.g.  in  geometry,  and  in  arithmetic.  An 
arithmetical  example.  Measures  and  multiples.  The  number  nine.  Oral 
demonstration  of  arithmetical  principles.  Inductive  reasoning.  Practical 
work  essential  in  the  study  of  the  physical  sciences.  Two  neglected 
branches  of  physical  enquiry.  Natural  History.  Astronomy.  Meteor- 
ology. Object  lessons.  Inductive  exercises  in  language.  Examples 
of  verbal  analysis.  Apposition.  Induction  the  test  of  the  value  of  edu- 
cational methods.  Child  study.  The  three  stages  of  progress  in  inductive 
science.  The  Kindergarten.  Religious  teaching  to  be  largely  judged  by 
its  results  on  character.     The  School  a  laboratory.     Results        .     1 14-144 

LECTURE   V 

HAND   WORK  AND    HEAD   WORK 

Manual  and  technical  instruction.  Why  it  is  advocated.  Apprenticeship. 
Acoles  d'Apprendssage.  Technological  Institutes.  The  Yorkshire  College 
of  Science.  French  technical  schools,  (1)  for  girls,  (2)  for  artizans. 
The  Frobelian  discipline.  Sweden  and  sloyd  work.  The  Ecole  Modele  at 
Brussels.     Drawing  and  design.     Educational  influence  of  manual  train- 


Contents  ix 

ing.  The  psychological  basis  for  it.  Variety  of  aptitude.  The  dignity 
of  labour.  Limitations  to  the  claims  of  manual  training.  Needlework. 
General  conclusions 145-176 

LECTURE   VI 

ENDOWMENTS   AND   THEIR   INFLUENCE   ON   EDUCATION 

Turgot  and  the  Encyclopedie.  Charitable  foundations  in  France.  Avoidable 
and  unavoidable  evils.  Almshouses.  Religious  charities :  Tests  and  dis- 
qualifications. Colston's  Charity  in  Bristol.  The  Girard  College  in  Phila- 
delphia. Charities  with  restricted  objects.  Doles.  Illegal  bequests  and 
useless  charities.  Educational  charities.  The  early  Grammar  Schools. 
Charity  Schools.j  Contrast  between  the  educational  endowments  of  the 
sixteenth  and  those  of  the  eighteenth  century^  Causes  of  decadence. 
Influence  on  the  teachers.  The  Endowed  Schools  Act  of  1869.  Origin 
of  charitable  endowments.  The  equitable  rights  of  founders.  The  State 
interested  in  maintaining  these  rights.  Endowments  may  encourage 
variety  and  new  experiments :  but  sometimes  prevent  improvement.  Con- 
ditions of  vitality  in  endowed  institutions: — That  the  object  should  be  a 
worthy  one :  that  the  mode  of  attaining  it  should  not  be  too  rigidly 
prescribed.  The  Johns  Hopkins  University.  Sir  Josiah  Mason's  foun- 
dations. Supervision  and  needful  amendment  the  duty  of  the  State. 
Constitution  of  governing  bodies.  Publicity.  Summary  of  practical  con- 
clusions.    England  and  America         ......     177-214 

LECTURE   VII 

ASCHAM   AND  THE   SCHOOLS   OF  THE   RENAISSANCE 

The  Modern  English  school  the  product  of  growth,  not  of  legislation.  The 
influence  of  religion.  Greek  served  to  shape  the  Creeds  and  theology. 
But  Latin  more  studied  and  valued  by  the  Church.  The  revival  of  Greek 
learning  not  due  to  the  Church.  Pre-Reformation  Grammar  Schools. 
Roger  Ascham.  The  Scholemaster.  Aschani's  royal  pupils.  His  experi- 
ence in  Italy.  St.  Paul's  School.  Examples  of  Sixteenth  century  Statutes. 
Chester,  Manchester,  Louth.  Choice  of  masters.  The  scheme  of  study. 
Details  of  the  Grammar  School  curriculum.  Disputations.  Hours  of 
Study  and  of  Teaching.  Vacations.  Punishments.  Payment  of  fees. 
No  provision  for  Girls'  education.  The  Grammar  School  theory.  How 
should  it  be  modified  by  later  experience?  How  much  of  it  should 
survive? 215-248 


x  Contents 

LECTURE   VIII 

TEACHERS'    INSTITUTES   AND    CONVENTIONS    IN   AMERICA 

Conditions  of  education  in  the  United  States.  Teachers  trained  and  un- 
trained. Institutes.  Henry  Barnard.  Scope  and  aim  of  the  Institutes. 
Voluntary  associations  of  teachers.  Co-operation  of  the  clergy  and  public 
men.  Summary  of  general  purpose  of  Conventions.  Newport,  Rhode 
Island.  The  College  Association  of  Philadelphia.  St.  John,  New 
Brunswick.  Chautauqua.  Reading  Circles.  Absence  of  educational 
politics.  The  corporate  spirit  among  teachers.  The  Teachers'  Guild  and 
its  future 249-271 

LECTURE   IX 

EDWARD  THRING 

The  biographical  method  of  studying  educational  history.  Arnold  and  Thring. 
Outlines  of  Thring's  life.  His  biographers.  Fellowships  at  King's  Col- 
lege, Cambridge.  Early  practice  in  a  National  School.  True  principles 
of  teaching  applicable  to  schools  of  all  grades.  Uppingham.  Boarding- 
houses.  The  School  largely  the  product  of  private  adventure.  The  Royal 
Commissioners.  The  Hegira.  Uppingham  by  the  sea.  The  teaching 
of  English.  Every  boy  good  for  something.  Variety  of  employment  and 
of  games.  Encouragement  of  music  and  the  fine  arts.  The  decoration 
of  the  school-room.  Honour  to  lessons.  Thring's  books.  His  fancies. 
Characteristic  extracts.  Diaries.  The  Head-Masters'  Conference.  Head- 
Mistresses.  Women  as  teachers.  Settlement  at  North  Woolwich.  The 
Uppingham  School  Society.     The  prize  system  ....     272-309 

LECTURE   X 

THE  UNIVERSITY   EXTENSION   MOVEMENT,   AND   ITS   RELATION 
\  TO   SCHOOLS 

The  University  Extension  Scheme.  Its  missionary  character.  Its  possible 
influence  on  Schools,  and  on  Training  Colleges.  Elementary  teachers. 
Some  special  disadvantages  in  their  life.  Their  extra-professional  inter- 
ests. Certificate  hunting.  The  study  of  history.  English  literature.  Eco- 
nomic science.     The  study  of  nature  and  art.    Teachers' societies.    310-325 


Contents  xi 


LECTURE   XI 

JOSEPH    LANCASTER 

Public  education  in  England  at  the  end  of  the  eighteenth  century.  Philan- 
thropic work.  Private  adventure  schools  for  the  poor.  Crabbe's  Borough. 
Day  schools.  Joseph  Lancaster.  His  early  life.  His  first  educational 
experiment.  Interview  with  the  King.  Successes.  Dr.  Andrew  Bell. 
His  work  at  Madras.  The  National  Society.  The  monitorial  system. 
Lancaster's  plans  of  discipline.  Their  defects.  His  methods  of  instruc- 
tion. The  schools  of  the  National  Society.  Training  of  teachers.  The 
National  and  Lancasterian  systems  compared.  The  treatment  of  the 
religious  question.  Lancaster's  disappointments.  Efforts  of  his  friends  to 
help"  him.  His  removal  to  America.  Characters  of  Bell  and  Lancaster 
compared.     Their  work  estimated       ......     326-357 


LECTURE   XII 

PESTALOZZI 

The  anniversary.  Characteristics  of  Pestalozzi's  teaching.  Sense  training. 
How  he  differed  from  Rousseau.  His  religious  purpose.  His  rebellion 
against  verbalism.     No  finality  in  his  system        ....     358-364 

LECTURE  XIII 

THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL  OF  THE  FUTURE 

Philanthropic  efforts  in  England.  Robert  Raikes.  The  changed  position 
of  the  Sunday  Schools.  The  problem  of  the  future.  The  Lord's  Day 
and  its  purpose.  The  working  man's  Sunday.  Home  influence  more 
potent  than  that  of  any  school.  Sunday  in  the  home.  The  teacher. 
Conversation.  Reading  aloud.  The  School  Library.  Religious  instruc- 
tion. A  teacher's  equipment.  Need  of  preparation.  Questioning. 
Verbal  memory.  Formularies.  Catechising  in  church.  Work  for  the 
educated  laity.  Children's  services.  Formation  of  a  habit  of  attending 
public  worship.  General  conclusions.  The  Sunday  School  not  only  a 
place  for  religious  instruction,  but  a  centre  of  civilization  and  social 
improvement       ..........     3°5_393 


xii  Contents 


LECTURE   XIV 

WOMEN    AND    UNIVERSITIES 

A  notable  feature  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Victoria.  Opening  of  professions  to 
women.  Public  employments.  Higher  education.  Women's  education 
not  provided  by  ancient  endowments.  Defoe's  protest.  Recent  reforms. 
Why  so  slowly  effected.  The  Schools'  Inquiry  Commission.  Ancient 
endowments  made  available  to  girls.  The  Universities'  Local  Examina- 
tions. Girls'  Public  Day  Schools.  Social  effects  of  this  movement.  The 
University  of  London.  Provincial  Colleges  of  University  rank.  The  older 
Universities.  Girton  and  Newnham.  Health  of  students.  A  Woman's 
University.  The  true  intellectual  requirements  of  women.  The  unused 
resources  of  life  ..........     394-420 


LECTURE   XV 

THE   FRENCH   LEAVING   CERTIFICATE 

Certificat  d  Etudes  Primaires 

The  French  law  authorizing  the  award  of  leaving  certificates.  Its  influence 
on  the  attendance  of  scholars.  Constitution  of  the  local  Commission. 
The  standard  of  examination.  Les  Ecoles  primaires  superieures.  The 
examinations  not  competitive.  Statistics.  Practical  results.  The  English 
problem.  The  "standards."  Individual  examination.  Its  uses  and  de- 
fects. Certificates  for  special  subjects.  Labour  certificates.  The  Scotch 
certificate  of  merit.  The  ideal  primary  school  course.  Optional  subjects. 
Oral  examination.     The  relation  between  school  and  home         .     421-444 

Index 445-448 


EDUCATIONAL   AIMS   AND 
METHODS 


LECTURE    I 

eoss 

METHODS   OF    INSTRUCTION   AS   ILLUS- 
TRATED   IN    THE   BIBLE1 

The  Bible  a  teaching  book.     Teaching  by  Symbol.     Limitations  to 
the  value  of  symbolic  acts,  in  ethical  training.     Direct  injunc- 
tion.    Peremptoriness.     The  Law  repeated  with  new  sanctions 
and  personal  appeals.     The  Sermon  on  the  Mount.     Rewards. 
The  true   ambition  of  life.     Poetry  as  a  factor  in  education. 
Mr  Arnold's  use  of  the  Book  of  Isaiah.     What  poetry  is  suited 
for  children.     Characteristics  of  Hebrew  poetry.     Reduplica- 
V§   tion  of  thought.    Stereotyped  formularies  and  creeds.    Proverbs 
N    better  suited  to  older  than  to  younger  learners.     Biography. 
National  portraits.     Examples  of  greatness.     Narrative  power. 
.     Parables.     Illustrations  from  Nature.     False  and  strained  mor- 
t)    alizing  from  Nature.     Co-operation  of  teacher  and  taught  in  the 
solution  of  problems.     Vision  and   meditation.     Dreamy   and 
imaginative  scholars  not  to  be  discouraged.     Conclusions. 

It  has  seemed  to  me  that  in  inviting  you  to  enter  The  Bible 
upon  some  further  considerations  on  the  principles  of  a,  te^chlni 
teaching  and  on  the  application  of  those  principles  to 
the  practice  of  your  profession,  it  might  not  be  unfitting 
to  devote  one  of  our  meetings  to  an  enquiry  into  the 
ways  in  which  the  problem  has  been  dealt  with  in  the  old- 
est educational  book  in  the  world.  The  Bible  has  many 
claims  upon  our  attention  —  claims  which  are  universally 
recognized  in  all  Christian  nations  at  least.     There  is 

1  Delivered  in  the  University  of  Cambridge,  Lent  Term,  1898. 
B  T 


2     Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

in  it  history,  poetry,  philosophy,  theology.  Critical  dis- 
cussion on  these  aspects  of  the  Scriptures  would  be  out 
of  place  here.  Yet  it  is  a  collection  of  books  which  has 
had  a  large  share  in  the  education  of  the  world ;  and 
while  we  may  properly  leave  to  the  antiquarian,  to  the 
scholarly  critic  and  to  the  theologian  the  duty  of  com- 
menting on  the  substance  of  Bible  teaching,  we  who  are 
in  quest  of  the  best  methods  of  communicating  truth  and 
of  influencing  character  may  well  fasten  our  attention 
upon  the  forms  into  which  the  sacred  writers  have  cast 
their  lessons,  upon  the  processes  by  which  they  have 
imparted  truth,  and  upon  the  light  shed  in  those  writings 
on  some  problems,  still,  though  under  altered  conditions, 
constantly  presented  to  those  who  are  concerned  with 
the  instruction  and  moral  discipline  of  the  young. 
Teaching  Now  some  of  the  earliest  lessons  employed  in  the 
by  Symbol,  education  of  our  race  took  the  form  —  not  of  direct  moral 
teaching,  but  of  injunctions  relating  to  specific  acts.  The 
patriarchs  were  instructed  to  perform  sacrifices  or  to  set 
up  a  stone  or  a  monument.  Abraham,  when  he  needed 
a  lesson  on  the  necessity  of  obedience  and  self-surrender, 
was  not  lectured  on  the  importance  of  those  virtues,  but 
was  bidden  to  go  up  to  a  mountain,  and  to  perform  an  act 
of  sacrifice.  The  institution  of  the  Passover  and  of  other 
Jewish  festivals  represents  to  us  a  form  of  teaching  rather 
by  symbolical  acts  than  by  direct  explanation  or  counsel. 
The  Jews  were  intended  to  keep  in  memory  their  great 
deliverance,  their  years  of  discipline,  their  dependence  on 
a  Divine  and  governing  providence,  but  long  before  we 
hear  of  any  definite  exhortation  on  these  points  we  find 
a  number  of  ceremonial  observances  which  put  all  such 
exhortations  in  a  concrete  form.  The  unleavened  bread, 
the  Paschal  lamb,  the  feast  of  tabernacles  carry  in  them- 
selves their  own  memories,  and  their  own  ethical  teaching. 


Teaching  by  Symbol 


To  this  hour  they  serve  as  the  chief  bonds  of  the  whole 
Jewish  community,  and  the  main  safeguards  for  the 
preservation  of  the  historical  Hebrew  faith.  They  may 
remind  us  that  the  chosen  nation  in  its  childhood  was 
largely  taught  by  means  of  picturesque  and  representative 
acts,  and  that  these  acts  were  to  be  performed  before 
their  full  significance  was  understood,  and  before  the 
conscience  or  the  power  of  reflection  had  been  awakened 
into  life  by  persuasion  or  argument. 

What  is  true  in  the  infancy  of  society  and  of  nations 
is  true  also  of  the  childhood  of  every  human  being.  It 
is  at  first  easier  to  enforce  the  observance  of  particular 
acts  than  to  make  their  meaning  intelligible.  This  may 
be  observed  in  secular  life,  in  domestic  life,  and  in 
religious  life  alike.  In  America  there  are  the  Fourth  of 
July  and  Washington's  birthday ;  in  a  home  the  birthday 
of  its  members,  the  little  acts  of  deference  to  the  heads 
of  the  household,  the  simple  ritual  of  family  prayer ;  in 
the  Church  the  observance  of  the  first  day  of  the  week 
and  the  outward  acts  of  religious  worship.  WTe  let  our 
children  share  in  these  observances  ;  we  do  not  try  to 
explain  all  the  reasons  for  them,  but  we  know  that  latent 
in  them  there  is  teaching  which  will  become  intelligible 
hereafter,  and  which  meanwhile  must  remain  undisclosed. 
Thus  we  value  Sunday,  not  only  because  it  is  an  oppor- 
tunity for  religious  instruction  and  worship,  but  because 
by  its  comparative  hush  and  calm,  and  by  all  the  social 
arrangements  which  separate  it  from  other  days,  it  stands 
out  to  the  child's  mind  as  a  permanent  symbol  of  the 
claims  of  the  higher  life.  It  is  a  visible  representation 
and  a  continual  memento  of  the  truths  that  '  man  does 
not  live  by  bread  alone,'  that  our  days  must  not  all  be 
spent  in  work  or  in  enjoyment,  but  that  thought,  rest,  and 
spiritual  culture  are  among  the  necessaries  of  life.     So  all 


4     Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

the  outward  symbolical  acts  which  imply  reverence  for 

sacred  things,  respect  and  courtesy  to  elders  have  their 

value.   "  Manners  makyth  man  "  because  they  beget  habits, 

and  habits  in  their  turn  form  character.     Such  acts  as 

imply  and  also  encourage  self-respect  yet  self-abnegation 

and    deference    to   the   wishes   and   feelings   of  others, 

when  habitually  practised  in  the  school  or  in  the  home, 

tend  to  keep  alive  in  the  young  scholar  a  sense  of  duty, 

long  before  any  rational  principles  of  conduct,  such  as 

he  can  understand,  can  be   enforced  upon  him  in  an 

explicit  form. 

Limits-  We  may  not  forget,  however,  that  there  is  a  deep  and 

tiom  to  the  ve,.y  reaj  danger  jn  the  multiplication  of  ceremonial  acts, 

symbolic     and  that  life  may  be  rendered  complicated  and  artificial 

acts  in       by  tne  use  0f  them.     They  come  in  time  to  be  regarded 

ethical  ,-,,,,  i 

training.    as    ends   in   themselves    rather   than   as   means   to   the 

higher  end  of  true  ethical  discipline.  It  is  observable 
how,  both  in  regard  to  belief  and  practice,  there  is  a 
tendency  in  human  nature  to  be  satisfied  with  the  mate- 
rial symbols  of  faith  and  duty,  and  with  the  'outward 
and  visible  sign '  rather  than  with  the  '  inward  and 
spiritual  grace.'  Forms  of  superstition  have  flourished 
and  will  continue  to  flourish  in  all  ages,  in  just  the  pro- 
portion in  which  men  shrink  from  the  task  of  exercising 
their  best  faculties  on  great  subjects,  and  take  refuge  in 
the  performance  of  a  ceremony,  the  oral  recitation  of  a 
formula,  or  the  observance  of  a  day.  It  is  always  much 
easier  to  do  any  one  of  these  mechanical  acts  than  to 
think  about  its  meaning,  or  to  appropriate  the  truth  which 
it  embodies.  And  we  shall  do  well  in  our  intercourse 
with  children  to  keep  in  mind  the  essentially  provisional 
and  incomplete  nature  of  all  symbolical  teaching.  It  is 
valuable  only  in  the  proportion  in  which  it  leads  the 
learner  to  something  better  than  itself  and  to  a  recogni- 


Direct  and  positive  injunction  5 

tion  of  its  underlying  moral  or  spiritual  significance. 
When  it  is  a  substitute  for  reflection,  instead  of  an  aid  to 
reflection,  it  becomes  a  fetish.  We  must  deal  with  it,  as 
Hezekiah  found  it  necessary  to  do  when  he  brake  in  pieces 
the  brazen  serpent  which  Moses  had  made,  and  which 
had  once  been  a  legitimate  object  of  veneration,  "  because 
in  those  days  the  children  of  Israel  did  burn  incense  to 
it,"  and  he  called  it  Nehushtan,  '  a  mere  piece  of  brass.' J 
But  let  us  once  be  sure  that  the  duty  or  the  truth 
symbolized  by  some  outward  form  or  usage  is  one  in 
which  we  entirely  believe,  and  which  we  wish  the  young 
scholar  hereafter  to  make  his  own,  and  we  need  not  fear, 
for  a  time  at  least,  to  adopt  the  method  by  which  belief 
was  strengthened  and  conduct  shaped  in  the  primitive 
stage  of  the  world's  history.  It  is  observable  that  Moses 
in  all  his  injunctions  about  the  Passover  ordained  that 
the  ritual  in  all  its  details  should  be  observed  during  the 
wandering  in  Egypt.  "  And  it  shall  come  to  pass  that 
when  you  be  come  to  the  land  which  the  Lord  will  give 
you,  and  when  your  children  say  unto  you,  What  mean 
you  by  this  service?  that  ye  shall  say,  It  is  the  sacrifice 
of  the  Lord's  Passover,  who  passed  over  the  houses  of 
the  children  of  Israel  when  He  smote  the  Egyptians,  and 
delivered  our  houses."  That  therefore  is  one  of  the  pro- 
cesses of  the  Divine  education.  Practise  for  the  present 
the  representative  acts  which  recall  great  events,  or 
symbolize  great  truths  and  duties,  and  some  day  their 
full  meaning  shall  be  revealed  to  you. 

Later  on  we  find   the  great  lawgiver  employing  an-  Direct  in- 
other   method — that  of  direct  and  positive  injunction.  ■,H"i 
The    commandments   of    the    two   tables    possess    two 
prominent  characteristics  :    (i)  they  are  mainly  negative  ; 
they  denounce  certain  special  forms  of  wrong-doing,  and 
1  2  Kings  xviii.  4. 


6     MetJiods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

they  say  definitely  respecting  each  of  them,  'This  must 
not  be  done.'  But  (2)  with  only  two  or  three  exceptions 
no  reason  is  assigned  for  the  prohibition  :  the  sanction 
on  which  the  Law  rests  is  not  discussed.  The  tables  of 
the  Law  forbid  wrong  acts,  but  they  do  not  enjoin  any 
form  of  virtue.  They  tell  what  a  good  man  should 
abstain  from  and  not  what  he  should  do.  And  it  is 
remarkable  that  in  the  case  of  the  two  or  three  com- 
mandments for  which  Moses  furnishes  any  ethical  basis 
or  explanation,  the  reason  given  happens  to  be  one  which 
is  local,  tribal,  or  temporary,  and  not  one  which  is  of 
universal  application.  In  the  Second  Commandment, 
for  example,  the  prohibition  is  not  directed  against 
idolatry  generally,  but  against  the  making  of  images,  or 
the  imitation  in  any  form,  of  natural  objects.  To  Moses, 
who  knew  the  people  well,  and  who  had  much  experience 
of  their  constant  relapses  into  the  grosser  forms  of  fetish 
worship  then  prevalent  among  the  neighbouring  nations, 
there  seemed  to  be  an  awful  and  very  real  danger  in  the 
mere  making  of  a  picture  or  a  graven  image,  whatever 
might  be  the  use  intended  to  be  made  of  it.  To  us,  all 
of  whose  temptations  to  idolatry  lie  in  other  directions, 
the  argument  that  God  is  a  jealous  God,  who  will  not 
tolerate  as  a  rival  a  sculptured  or  a  molten  image,  is 
scarcely  relevant.  The  warning  against  idolatry  is,  in- 
deed, eternally  necessary,  but  it  is  not  in  our  day  the 
love  of  the  fine  arts  which  is  likely  to  seduce  us  from  our 
allegiance  to  the  King  of  kings.  The  Christian  Church 
has  never  in  any  age  attempted  a  literal  obedience  to  the 
injunctions  of  the  Second  Commandment.  To  do  so 
would  betoken  on  her  part  a  total  incapacity  for  dis- 
tinguishing between  the  letter  and  the  spirit,  between  the 
temporary  and  the  permanent  elements  in  the  Mosaic 
law.     So  also  the  obligation  to  keep  one  day  in  seven 


Peremptoriness  of  tlic  Commandments  7 

free  from  work  is  based  by  Moses  not  on  general 
expediency,  nor  on  any  considerations  respecting  the 
religious  value  of  a  weekly  respite  from  ordinary  pursuits, 
but  on  the  statement  that  "  in  six  days  the  Lord  made 
heaven  and  earth,  and  rested  on  the  seventh  day"  —  an 
argument  which,  however  weighty  to  those  to  whom  it 
was  first  addressed,  has  been  deprived  of  much  of  its 
significance  by  all  subsequent  additions  to  our  knowledge 
of  cosmogony.  Again,  the  Fifth  Commandment  enjoins 
a  duty  which  is  of  perennial  obligation,  but  the  particular 
motive  appealed  to,  "  that  thy  days  may  be  long  in  the 
land  which  the  Lord  thy  God  giveth  thee,"  had  clearly  a 
special  application  to  a  nomadic  people  on  their  way  to 
a  home  in  which  they  hoped  to  abide.  At  best,  the 
motive  suggested  for  honouring  and  obeying  parents  was 
founded  on  considerations  of  self-interest  and  not  on 
any  one  of  those  higher  sanctions  which  the  enlightened 
conscience  in  all  ages  of  the  world  would  be  most  ready 
to  recognize. 

We  may  conclude  therefore  that  the  force  of  the  Ten  Perevip- 
Commandments,  and  their  claim  to  be  still  embodied  in toriness- 
the  service  of  the  modern  Church,  does  not  lie  in  the 
kind  of  justification  which  the  lawgiver  has  in  one  or  two 
instances  attached  to  them,  but  in  their  directness  and 
peremptoriness.  There  was  a  stage,  a  very  early  stage, 
in  the  history  of  the  chosen  people,  wherein  what  they 
needed  most  was  positive  injunction  respecting  absti- 
nence from  certain  faults,  to  which,  owing  to  the  special 
circumstances  of  their  lives,  they  were  most  prone. 
There  is  a  similar  stage  in  the  lives  of  the  young  learners 
under  our  charge.  The  language  of  the  domestic  law- 
giver or  of  the  teacher  must  sometimes  be  that  of  Moses 
and  Aaron  :  "  Do  this,  abstain  from  that,  because  I  am 
in  authority  and   I  tell  you.      We  will  not  discuss  the 


8     MctJiods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

grounds  of  the  prohibition.  The  thing  is  wrong  and 
must  not  be  done.  Some  day  you  will  understand  why 
it  is  wrong.  Meanwhile  it  must  suffice  for  you  to  know 
that  I  forbid  it.  '  Thou  shalt  not  steal.  Thou  shalt  not 
bear  false  witness.'  That  is  enough  for  you.'' 
The  Law  But  even  as  Moses  when  he  had  once  promulgated 
repeated     foe  Commandments  was  not  satisfied  to  leave  the  people 

with  new  .  x       * 

sanctions,  whom  he  was  called  upon  to  help  and  guide  in  a  con- 
and per-     Virion  of  moral  serfdom,  so  the  teacher  who  is  rightly 

sonal  ap-  .  °       J 

peals.  impressed  with  a  sense  of  the  obligations  of  his  own 
office  will  not  be  content  when  he  has  merely  laid  down 
rules  and  secured  submission  to  them.  Observe  how 
Moses,  when  he  was  old,  set  about  the  further  task  of 
explaining  the  nature  and  grounds  of  his  precepts,  and 
claiming  the  intelligent  sympathy  of  those  who  were 
called  on  to  practise  them.  Deuteronomy  —  the  dupli- 
cated, re-stated  and  amplified  law  —  represents  a  later 
and  most  memorable  stage  in  the  education  of  the  Jewish 
people.  Throughout  the  whole  of  the  book  bearing  that 
name  you  will  find  an  effort  to  vindicate  the  essential 
equity  of  the  Divine  commands,  to  abandon  the  ground 
of  mere  authority  and  to  appeal  to  the  conscience,  the 
loyalty,  the  experience  and  the  good  sense  of  the  people 
themselves.  Listen  to  the  voice  of  Moses,  as  he  enume- 
rates the  blessings  those  people  had  enjoyed  under  the 
Divine  government,  and  seeks  to  awaken  in  them  a  sense 
of  gratitude  and  of  moral  obligation  : 

"  For  this  commandment  which  1  command  thee  this  day,  it  is 
not  hidden  from  thee,  neither  is  it  far  off.  It  is  not  in  heaven,  that 
thou  shouldest  say,  Who  shall  go  up  for  us  to  heaven  and  bring  it 
unto  us  that  we  may  hear  it  and  do  it?  Neither  is  it  beyond  the 
sea  that  thou  shouldest  say,  'Who  shall  go  over  the  sea  for  us,  and 
bring  it  unto  us,  that  we  may  hear  it  and  do  it?  But  the  word  is 
very  nigh  thee,  in  thy  mouth  and  in  thine  heart,  that  thou  mayest  do 
it.     See,  I  have  set  before  thee  this  day  life  and  good,  and  death  and 


The  Law  repeated  witJi  new  sanctions  9 

evil  *  *  *  that  thou  mayest  love  the  Lord  thy  God,  and  that  thou 
mayest  obey  his  voice,  and  that  thou  mayest  cleave  unto  him,  for 
he  is  thy  life  and  the  length  of  thy  days,  that  thou  mayest  dwell  in 
the  land  which  the  Lord  sware  unto  thy  fathers,  to  Abraham,  to 
Isaac,  and  to  Jacob,  to  give  them."  l 

Here  is  still,  we  observe,  the  motive  of  self-interest 
—  the  offered  reward  of  peace  and  prosperity  in  the 
promised  land ;  but  it  is  much  less  prominent  than 
before.  This  language  may  serve  as  a  reminder  —  a  very 
instructive  and  powerful  reminder —  to  a  teacher,  of  the 
kind  of  sanction  he  should  seek  for  all  the  orders  and 
rules  he  gives.  His  work  as  a  legislator  and  administrator 
in  the  little  world  in  which  he  reigns  supreme  is  not 
accomplished  until  he  has  done  what  Moses  did  with  the 
people  of  Israel,  appealed  to  their  intelligence  and  sought 
to  awaken  in  them  a  sense,  not  only  of  the  moral  claims 
of  the  lawgiver,  but  also  of  the  necessity  and  the  beauty 
of  law.  Enforced  obedience  does  not  deserve  to  be 
called  obedience  at  all  —  certainly  it  cannot  be  regarded 
as  moral  discipline.  He  who  obeys  a  law  because  he  is 
obliged  under  penalty  to  obey  it,  is  but  a  slave  after  all. 
You  want  to  bring  up  a  race  of  free  agents,2  of  children 

1  Deuteronomy  xxx.   1 1 — 20. 

2  Here  is  your  child.  Wrong  as  all  children  are,  just  because 
they  are  human  creatures,  how  shall  you  set  him  right?  Is  not  the 
whole  problem  of  your  education  this  — to  educate  the  will  and 
not  to  break  it.  Perhaps  it  might  be  easy,  with  all  the  tremendous 
purchase  of  your  parental  power,  to  break  your  child's  will  if 
you  chose.  But  what  have  you  got  then?  A  poor,  spiritless,  will- 
less  creature  incapable  of  good  as  he  is  incapable  of  evil,  with 
nothing  to  contribute  to  either  side  of  the  great  battle  of  humanity 
which  is  going  on  about  him.  That  is  not  what  you  want.  To 
keep  the  will,  to  fill  it  with  more  and  more  life,  but  to  make  it  so 
wise  that  it  shall  spend  its  strength  in  goodness — that  is  your  true 
ambition  as  the  trainer  of  your  child.  And  when  some  friend 
disheartened  with  your  slowness  comes  to  you  and  says,  "  Why  do 


io   MctJwds  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

who  as  they  grow  will  so  incorporate  into  their  own  lives 
the  law  of  duty  that  they  will  need  no  physical  or 
external  restraint,  but  will  understand  something  of  that 
spirit  of  self-surrender,  which  finds  expression  in  Words- 
worth's Ode  to  Duty  : 

Oft,  when  in  my  heart  was  heard 
Thy  timely  mandate,  I  deferr'd 
The  task  imposed  from  day  to  clay; 
But  thee  I  now  would  serve  more  strictly,  if  I  may. 

Through  no  disturbance  of  my  soul, 
Or  strong  compunction  in  me  wrought, 
I  supplicate  for  thy  control; 
But  in  the  quietness  of  thought; 
Me  this  unchartered  freedom  tires, 
I  feel  the  weight  of  chance-desires, 
My  hopes  no  more  must  change  their  name, 
I  long  for  a  repose  that  ever  is  the  same. 

Very  nearly  akin  is  this  language  of  a  nineteenth 
century  poet  to  the  language  of  the  Hebrew  king,  "  Oh 
how  I  love  Thy  law  !  it  is  my  meditation  all  the  day. 
Thy  testimonies  are  my  delight  and  my  counsellors. 
Thy  statutes  have  been  my  songs  in  the  house  of  my 
pilgrimage.  The  law  of  Thy  mouth  is  dearer  to  me  than 
thousands  of  gold  and  silver."  All  through  these  and 
the  like  outpourings  you  hear  little  or  nothing  about  the 
penalties  of  breaking  the  law,  or  about  the  good  land 

you  not  settle  the  whole  matter  once  for  all  by  breaking  the  child's 
will  to  pieces  and  compelling  obedience  whether  he  wants  to  obey 
you  or  not?"  you  reply,  "I  cannot  do  that;  obedience  won  in 
that  way  would  not  be  obedience.  To  prevent  badness  so,  would 
be  to  prevent  goodness  also."  What  is  that  conversation  but  the 
translation  into  household  language  of  the  old  conversation  of  the 
farmer  and  his  servants :  "  Wilt  thou  that  we  go  and  gather  up  the 
tares?"  "Nay,  lest  while  ye  gather  up  the  tares,  ye  root  up  also 
the  wheat  with  them."  — Bishop  Phillips  Brooks. 


The  Sermon  on  the  Mount  1 1 

and  the  long  life  of  which  Moses  says  so  much.  The 
Psalmists  had  got  beyond  that  stage  of  educational  dis- 
cipline. Read  the  hundred  and  nineteenth  Psalm,  which 
is  a  sustained  paean  on  the  majesty  and  beauty  of  the 
Divine  law.  Consider  that  the  chief  literature  of  the 
Jewish  people  —  the  Talmud  and  the  Targums  —  consists 
of  comments  and  amplifications  of  the  statutes  and 
ordinances  as  given  by  Moses,  and  it  will  be  plain  that 
all  that  is  best  in  Jewish  history  connects  itself  with 
reverence  for  the  Law  and  with  a  desire  to  interpret  and 
to  apply  it.  Grant  then  that  during  the  period  of  our 
pupil's  life,  before  conscience  and  sympathy  can  be 
aroused,  many  of  our  commands  must  necessarily  be 
unexplained  ;  we  may  not  forget  that  the  training  of  the 
responsible  human  being  must  ever  remain  incomplete 
until  he  is  made  to  recognize  the  value  of  the  injunctions 
he  is  expected  to  obey.  As  occasion  offers,  and  as 
scholars  grow  in  years  and  experience,  we  do  well  to  let 
them  see  as  far  as  we  can  why  we  impose  our  own  will 
on  theirs.  We  need  not  fear  that  doing  this  implies  any 
loss  of  dignity,  or  of  personal  authority.  It  merely  implies 
that  you  are  leading  them  by  degrees  to  rely  on  something 
better  than  your  personal  authority,  upon  the  intuitions  of 
conscience  and  on  the  law  of  God. 

The  whole  drift  and  purpose  of  the  Sermon  on  the  The  Ser- 

Mount  lie  in  this  direction.     It  aims  throughout  at  the  ™°n  on 

to  Mount. 

substitution  of  a  principle  or  a  general  law  of  action  for 

the  authoritative  enforcement  of  specific  rules.  "  Ye 
have  heard  that  it  hath  been  said,  Thou  shalt  not  kill, 
and  whosoever  shall  kill  shall  be  in  danger  of  the  judg- 
ment. But  I  say  unto  you,  that  whosoever  is  angry 
with  his  brother  without  a  cause  shall  be  in  danger  of 
the  judgment."  In  this  spirit,  each  of  the  specific  in- 
junctions of  the  old  law  is  considered  in  turn  and  shewn 


1 2    Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

to  be  practically  absorbed  and  superseded  by  the  higher 
law,  which  concerns  itself  with  the  motives  of  human 
action.  When  once  this  higher  law  is  duly  recognized 
and  welcomed  all  formal  rules  and  ordinances  become 
well-nigh  superfluous.  And  indeed  the  whole  Sermon 
on  the  Mount  is  characterized  by  the  way  in  which 
concrete  examples  are  treated  in  the  light  of  large  general 
principles,  although  those  principles  are  not  themselves 
enunciated  in  an  abstract  form.  On  this  point  Professor 
Seeley  appositely  remarks  : 

"The  style  of  the  Sermon  on  the  Mount  is  neither  purely  philo- 
sophical nor  purely  practical.  It  refers  throughout  to  first  principles, 
but  it  does  not  state  them  in  an  abstract  form:  on  the  other  han<], 
it  enters  into  special  cases  and  detail,  but  never  so  far  as  to  lose 
sight  of  first  principles.  It  is  equally  unlike  the  early  national 
codes,  which  simply  formulari/.ed  without  method  existing  customs, 
and  the  early  moral  treatises,  such  as  those  of  Hato  and  Aristotle, 
which  are  purely  scientific.  Of  Jewish  writers  it  resembles  most  the 
book  of  Deuteronomy,  in  which  the  Mosaic  law  was  recapitulated 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  make  the  principles  on  which  it  was 
founded  apparent;  of  Gentile  writings  it  may  be  compared  with 
those  of  Epictetus,  Aurelius,  and  Seneca,  in  which  we  see  a 
scientific  morality  brought  to  bear  upon  the  struggles  and  details  of 
actual  life.  It  uses  all  the  philosophical  machinery  of  generalization 
and  distinction,  but  its  object  is  not  philosophical  but  practical  — 
that  is,  not  truth,  but  good."1 

The  framers  of  the  English  Liturgy  in  one  of  the 
collects  address  Him  "  Whose  service  is  perfect  freedom," 
and  in  another,  pray  that  we  "  may  love  the  thing  that 
thou  commandest  and  desire  that  which  thou  dost 
promise."  This  certainly  was  the  thought  of  St  Paul 
when  after  describing  the  Law  as  a  schoolmaster  he 
clenched  the  whole  of  a  memorable  argument  with 
the  words,  "  Stand  fast  in  the  liberty  wherewith  Christ 
hath  made  us  free,  and  be  not  entangled  again  with  the 

1  Ecce  Homo. 


Rewards  1 3 

yoke  of  bondage."  x  If  our  schemes  of  moral  discipline 
do  not  contemplate  this  result  as  the  ultimate  goal  to 
be  attained,  however  halting  and  imperfect  are  the  steps 
by  which  it  is  approached,  those  schemes  themselves  are 
necessarily  faulty.  It  is  good  of  course  that  our  scholars 
should  shape  their  conduct  according  to  the  rules  which 
we  prescribe,  but  it  is  still  better  that  they  should  acquire 
the  power  of  self-government  and  become  in  the  highest 
and  best  sense  a  law  unto  themselves. 

In  considering  the  methods  of  moral  discipline  Rewards. 
adopted  or  described  in  the  Bible,  it  is  well  to  refer  for 
a  moment  to  the  light  thrown  by  the  sacred  writers  on 
the  manner  in  which  the  rewards  of  life  are  distributed. 
Bacon  has  said,  "  Prosperity  is  the  blessing  of  the  Old 
Testament ;  adversity  the  blessing  of  the  New."  He 
shews  that  this  general  statement  is  subject  to  some 
exceptions,  for  he  adds  that  even  "  if  you  listen  to  David's 
harp,  you  shall  hear  as  many  hearse-like  airs  as  carols."2 
Long  life,  corn  and  wine,  flocks  and  herds,  honour  and 
wealth  are  more  frequently  referred  to  as  the  rewards  of 
obedience  in  the  Old  than  in  the  New  Testament.  But 
here  again  the  generalization  must  be  qualified.  There 
is  a  remarkable  episode  in  the  life  of  Solomon,  which 
illustrates  the  inadequacy  of  merely  material  prosperity  as 
an  object  of  ambition.  The  young  sovereign  is  repre- 
sented as  seeing  a  vision,  and  hearing  a  voice,  "  Ask  what 
I  shall  give  thee,"  and  his  answer  was,  "  '  O  Lord,  my  God, 
I  am  but  a  little  child  *  *  *  Give  therefore  thy  servant  a 
wise  and  understanding  heart,  to  judge  thy  people,  that  I 
may  discern  between  good  and  bad  ;  for  who  is  able  to  judge 
this  thy  so  great  people?'  And  this  speech  pleased  the 
Lord  that  Solomon  had  asked  this  thing.  And  God  said 
unto  him,  '  Because  thou  hast  asked  this  thing,  and  hast 
1  Galations.  v.  i .  2  Essay  on  Adversity. 


14    Methods  of  Inst  ruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

not  asked  for  thyself  long  life,  neither  hast  asked  riches 
for  thyself,  nor  hast  asked  the  life  of  thine  enemies,  but 
hast  asked  for  thyself  understanding  to  discern  judgment ; 
behold  I  have  done  according  to  thy  words.  Lo,  I  have 
given  thee  a  wise  and  understanding  heart.  *  *  *  And  I 
have  also  given  thee  that  which  thou  hast  not  asked,  both 
riches  and  honour,  so  that  there  shall  not  be  any  among 
the  kings  like  thee  all  thy  days.'  And  Solomon  woke 
and  behold  it  was  a  dream."  *  But  it  was  a  dream  of 
profound  significance,  for  it  reveals  to  us  the  true  and 
enduring  connexion  between  the  duties  of  life  and  the 
rewards  of  life.  Success,  wealth  and  prosperity,  if  sought 
for  their  own  sakes,  may  often  elude  the  seeker ;  but  he 
who  first  of  all  desires  the  wisdom  and  the  power  needed 
for  the  right  fulfilment  of  duty  is  often  found  to  obtain 
them  and  also  something  which  he  has  not  asked,  both 
riches  and  honour.  In  the  New  Testament  the  same 
great  law  of  the  Divine  ruler  of  the  world  is  expressed  in 
the  words,  "  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and  his 
righteousness,  and  all  these  things  —  what  ye  shall  eat  and 
what  ye  shall  drink  —  shall  be  added  unto  you." 
The  true  Thg  Words  used  in  the  parable  of  the  Talents  illus- 

ambition  r       .  .  r     ,  r  .  . 

of  life.  trate  a  further  view  of  the  true  nature  of  rewards  and 
punishments.  From  the  unprofitable  servant  the  talent 
was  taken  away  that  he  might  no  longer  misuse  or  hide 
it,  but  the  diligent  and  conscientious  servant  is  told, 
"Thou  hast  been  faithful  over  a  few  things,  I  will  make 
thee  ruler  over  many  things."  "  Have  thou  authority  over 
ten  cities."  Herein  lies  a  key  to  the  Divine  economy  as 
regards  human  service,  and  to  the  whole  philosophy  of 
human  ambition.  The  faithful  servant  is  not  offered  rest 
or  luxury,  or  any  immediate  visible  compensation;  but 
more  duty,  higher  responsibility,  the  rule  over  a  larger 
1  I  Kings  iii.  5 — 15. 


The  true  ambition  of  life  1 5 

province,  power  to  become  a  still  more  honoured  and 
useful  servant.  I  think  this  is  a  view  of  the  relations 
between  duty  and  reward  which  we  shall  be  wise  to  keep 
prominently  in  view  of  our  scholars,  who  at  the  threshold 
of  life  are  looking  wistfully  forward  into  the  unknown 
future,  and  are  filled  with  vague  ambitions  and  with 
hopes  of  success.  Books  such  as  those  of  Dr  Smiles, 
with  stories  of  great  engineers  and  of  '  men  who  have 
risen,'  possess  a  very  intelligible  fascination  for  many 
boys ;  but  they  present,  after  all,  a  somewhat  ignoble,  or 
at  least  an  incomplete  view  of  life's  meaning  and  purpose. 
'  Getting  on  '  should  be  set  before  the  young  and  hopeful 
pupil,  not  merely  as  rising  to  higher  social  rank  or  larger 
fortune,  though  it  may  and  often  does  mean  this  ;  but 
rather  getting  to  that  work  which  we  can  do  best,  and 
which  calls  into  exercise  our  highest  faculties.  The  true 
prizes  of  life  are  not  gifts  or  large  salaries,  or  material 
advantages  ;  but  honour,  influence,  opportunities  of  use- 
fulness, power  to  be  of  service  to  others,  and  especially  to 
add  to  the  happiness  of  those  whom  we  love.  Fortunately 
these  prizes  are  not  competitive  ;  no  one  in  winning  them 
prevents  another  from  gaining  them.  They  are  accessible 
to  every  earnest  and  honest  student,  whether  he  gains 
school  distinctions  and  a  prosperous  career  or  not.  In 
organizing  a  school,  and  in  assigning  duties,  a  teacher  has 
many  opportunities  of  keeping  this  principle  in  view. 
He  is  subject  to  special  temptation  to  over-rate  talent  — 
the  sort  of  mental  endowment  which  saves  himself 
trouble  as  a  teacher,  and  brings  repute  to  his  school ; 
but  one  of  his  highest  duties  is  to  recognize  the  merit  of 
commonplace  abilities,  and  to  furnish  full  encourage- 
ment and  opportunity  for  their  use.  The  worship  of 
mere  cleverness  is  often  fatal  to  the  growth  of  what  is 
morally  excellent  in  a  place  of  education.     So  although  a 


L 


1 6   Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

good  teacher  will  not  deem  it  necessary  to  say  much  on 
this  subject,  he  will  none  the  less  effectually  make  his 
pupils  aware  that  in  the  microcosm  of  school  there  is 
room  for  the  exercise  of  varied  talents  and  for  generous 
ambition  ;  and  that  possibilities  of  being  useful  to  others 
are  within  reach  of  all  the  scholars,  whether  distinguished 
or  undistinguished.  "To  one  the  Master  has  given  five 
talents,  to  another  two,  and  another  one,"  but  for  all 
alike  there  is  the  promise  of  the  crowning  recompense, 
"  Well  done,  good  and  faithful  servant." 
Poetry  as  a  The  reader  of  the  Bible  who  traces  with  care  the 
]<utor  in  processes  by  which  die  Jewish  people  were  gradually 
taught  and  guided,  cannot  fail  to  be  impressed  with  the 
part  played  by  song  and  poetry  in  that  educational 
discipline.  Recall  the  exulting  song  of  Miriam,  after  the 
first  deliverance  at  the  Red  Sea,  the  wild  coronach  of 
Deborah  the  prophetess,  the  lament  of  David  over  Saul 
and  Jonathan,  and  it  will  become  evident  that  passion, 
fervour,  melody,  and  lofty  imagery,  were  often  employed 
by  the  sacred  writers  to  deepen  sentiments  of  gratitude  or 
patriotism  which  else  would  have  proved  evanescent. 
Hebrew  poetry  finds  its  highest  artistic  expression  in  the 
Book  of  Psalms,  which  have  proved  not  only  to  the 
Jewish  nation  but  to  devout  souls  in  all  subsequent  ages 
a  help  and  solace,  and  a  source  of  spiritual  exaltation. 
The  Book  of  Isaiah  also,  with  its  rich  and  eloquent 
prophecies  of  Israel's  restoration,  may  remind  us  that  his 
glowing  language  not  only  bore  a  large  part  in  the  educa- 
tion of  the  Hebrew  race,  but  also  did  much  to  shape  its 
history  and  its  fortunes.  He  of  all  the  prophets  appealed 
most  powerfully  to  the  patriotism,  the  imagination  and 
the  religious  instincts  of  his  countrymen,  because  his  lips 
had  been  touched  with  the  sacred  fire,  and  because  in 
his  utterances  instruction  became  Divine  illumination  and 


Mr  Arnold" s  ttse  of  the  Book  of  Isaiah         ij 

hope  became  rapture.  St  Jerome  called  him  an  evange- 
list rather  than  a  prophet,  and  St  Ambrose's  first  counsel 
to  Augustine  after  his  conversion  was  that  he  should  read 
the  prophecies  of  Isaiah. 

I  have  elsewhere  referred1  to  the  use  which  the  late  Mr  M. 

Matthew  Arnold  desired  to  make  of  some  parts  of  the  Arnolf* 

1  use  oj  the 

Book  of  Isaiah  as  a  poetic  utterance  of  which  even  our  Book  cf 

own  generation  could  not  help  feeling  the  glow  and Jsaia/l- 
animation.  The  prophet's  profound  belief  that  the  great 
unrighteous  kingdoms  of  the  heathen  could  not  stand,  and 
that  the  world's  salvation  lay  in  recourse  to  the  God  of 
Israel  gave  to  his  words  a  dignity  which  made  them  of 
universal  application.  "  Speak  ye  comfortably  to  Jeru- 
salem, and  cry  unto  her  that  her  warfare  is  accomplished, 
and  that  her  iniquity  is  pardoned,"  is  a  proclamation  not 
confined  in  its  meaning  to  the  history  of  the  Israelites. 
And  when  Matthew  Arnold  edited  the  latter  portion  of 
the  prophecy  of  Isaiah  and  cast  it  into  the  form  of 
a  school  reading-book,  he  did  not  of  course  expect  that 
English  children  would  understand  all  its  meaning.  He 
certainly  would  have  been  disappointed  to  know  that  the 
book  had  been  '  got  up '  for  analysis,  or  that  its  words 
and  allusions  had  been  studied  with  a  view  to  an  exami- 
nation. But  he  knew  how  much  the  imagination  of  a 
child  may  be  kindled  by  large  thoughts  and  lofty 
language,  and  he  thought  it  a  sin  to  overlook  the  educa- 
tive influence  of  the  Hebrew  poetry,  merely  because  it 
might  be  difficult  for  a  modern  teacher  to  interpret  the 
whole  of  its  meaning.  As  we  read  the  impassioned 
sentences  of  the  older  seers  and  prophets,  listen  to  the 
roll  and  musical  cadence  of  their  verse,  and  mount  up  with 
them  to  the  Pisgah  heights  from  which  they  were  able  to 

1  Thomas  and  Matthew  Arnold  and  their  influence  on  English 
Education,  p.  L95. 
C 


1 8    Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 


What 
poetry  is 
suited  for 

children. 


survey  the  history  and  the  destiny  of  mankind,  we  become 
aware  that  the  culture  of  the  imagination  plays  a  great  part 
in  determining  the  character  of  a  race  and  the  develop- 
ment of  a  human  being.  A  system  of  teaching"  which  is 
purely  scientific,  which  deals  with  no  truth  but  that  which 
is  known  and  can  be  verified,  is  essentially  incomplete. 
Herbert  Spencer,  in  his  well-known  book  on  Education, 
dwells  with  just  emphasis  on  science  —  reasoned,  organized 
knowledge  —  as  the  main  object  of  instruction.  But  he 
leaves  out  of  view  the  "  thoughts  that  breathe  and  words 
that  burn,"  the  poetry  which  gladdens  and  ennobles  life, 
and  carries  us  into  the  region  of  the  unseen  and  the  con- 
ceivable —  a  region  unexplored  by  the  philosopher,  the 
physicist  and  the  moralist,  and  lying  beyond  their  ken.  We 
have  to  recognize  that  there  lies,  more  or  less  suppressed 
and  overlaid,  in  every  human  being,  the  faculty  which 
responds  to  noble  words  and  inspiring  thoughts,  and  that 
it  is  a  high  duty  of  a  teacher  to  find  worthy  exercise  for 
this  faculty.  Hence  it  has  come  to  be  generally  admitted 
that  the  learning  of  poetry  by  heart  should  form  part  of 
the  course  of  instruction  in  all  good  schools.  But  we 
have  to  take  care  that  what  is  so  learned  shall  be  real 
poetry,  and  not  ornamental  nonsense.  The  childish 
narrative  and  trite  morality  disguised  in  pretty  rhymes 
may  serve,  with  very  young  children,  to  please  the  ear 
and  to  furnish  a  relief  from  graver  employments.  But  as 
an  educational  instrument,  to  be  employed  with  scholars 
who  are  old  enough  to  think,  the  only  poetry  which  has 
any  value  is  that  which  does  something  to  refine  the  taste, 
to  quicken  the  imagination  and  to  lift  the  learner  on  to  a 
higher  plane  of  thought  and  feeling  than  that  on  which 
he  habitually  dwells.  This  condition  is  not  fulfilled 
when  a  writer  tries  to  put  as  much  theology  as  he  can 
into  the  sacred  poetry  which  children  are  asked  to  learn, 


Characteristics  of  Hebrew  •  pen  -try  1 9 

or  when  the  teacher  confines  his  choice  to  those  verses 
which  seem  to  him  to  embody  the  most  valuable  mural 
truths.  It  is  not  so  much  the  office  of  poetry  to  give 
instruction  as  to  supply  inspiration  and  to  excite  right 
emotion.  In  all  scientific  and  didactic  lessons,  harm  is 
done  no  doubt  when  we  soar  beyond  the  comprehension 
of  the  learner,  and  call  upon  him  to  assent  to  proposi- 
tions which  he  does  not  understand.  But  in  that  part  of 
intellectual  discipline  which  concerns  the  training  of  the 
imagination  there  is  no  harm,  but  much  advantage  in 
transcending  the  boundaries  of  a  child's  present  knowl- 
edge and  experience,  and  in  filling  him  with  a  vague 
sense  of  the  mystery  and  the  richness  of  the  world  which 
lies  beyond  them.  In  choosing  a  poem  to  be  read  or 
committed  to  memory,  we  should  beware  of  taking  the 
scholar's  actual  mental  condition  and  surroundings  as  the 
measure  of  its  appropriateness.  We  should  seek  for 
strong  thoughts,  for  noble  or  devout  aspiration,  for  a 
widened  horizon,  and  for  artistic  beauty  of  form  ;  and  if 
these  be  secured  we  need  feel  no  regret  that  the  poetry 
is  not  wholly  intelligible  by  any  faculty  of  the  pupil, 
or  wholly  explicable  by  any  faculty  of  ours.  Let  us 
leave  some  room  for  the  exercise  of  wonderment,  for  the 
consciousness  of  present  limitations  and  inferiority,  and 
for  the  hope  that  the  meaning,  which  is  now  obscure,  will 
some  day  be  disclosed  ;  and  then  we  may  rest  assured 
that  we  have  made  a  substantial  addition  to  the  mental 
and  spiritual  outfit  of  the  pupil,  even  though  the  imme- 
diate result  of  our  teaching  fails  to  satisfy  any  test  which 
we  or  the  most  skilful  of  examiners  could  devise. 

There   is   one   characteristic   of  the    Hebrew   poetry  Character- 
which    gives   it   special   value   in   the    eyes    of   teachers.  'f/'^r/ 
I   mean   the   way   in   which   the    same   thought   is   often  poetry. 
repeated   in  at  least   two   different   forms.     You  do  not 


20   Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

need  to  be  reminded  that  the  intellectual  influence  of 
poetry  is  not  altogether  dependent  on  the  value  of  the 
fact  or  thought  which  it  embodies,  but  largely  results 
from  a  certain  charm  and  grace  in  the  form  into  which 
it  is  cast.  For  example  our  English  verse  is  distinguished, 
as  to  its  metrical  structure,  by  the  symmetrical  arrange- 
ment of  its  lines,  by  the  regular  recurrence  of  accented 
and  unaccented  syllables,  and  by  the  use  of  certain  verbal 
assonances  which  we  call  rhymes.  Take  a  single  stanza 
from  the  Ancient  Mariner  in  illustration  : 

"  It  ceased,  yet  still  the  sails  made  on 
A  pleasant  noise  till  noon, 
A  noise  like  of  a  hidden  brook 
In  the  leafy  month  of  June, 
That  to  the  sleeping  woods  all  night 
Singeth  a  quiet  tune." 

We  recognize  here  that  the  regular  recurrence  of 
similar  sounds  and  accents  gives  a  musical  setting  and 
an  added  charm  to  whatever  is  attractive  in  the  descrip- 
tion itself.  In  like  manner  our  Anglo-Saxon  and  Norse 
forefathers  found  gratification  to  the  ear  in  what  is  called 
alliteration,  the  regular  repetition  of  similar  sounds  at 
the  beginning  of  the  several  lines  and  words.  In  Greek 
and  Roman  poetry  the  rhythm  depended  neither  on 
accent  nor  on  rhyme,  but  on  the  quantity  —  the  length 
or  shortness  of  syllables  recurring  according  to  a  pre- 
scribed law,  and  thus  specially  suiting  the  verse  for 
musical  accompaniment.  But  in  the  Hebrew  poetry 
Redupli-  there  are  none  of  these  artifices.  In  their  stead  we 
Cfhoupht  nave  tne  reou^ar  recurrence  of  the  same  thought  in  two 
different  forms,  so  that  the  result  is  a  metrical  system 
rather  of  ideas  than  of  words  and  syllables.  Rut  this 
sort  of  reduplication  is  not  less  impressive  —  nay,  it  is 
not   less   Knusical   when   the   ear  once   becomes   attuned 


Reduplication  of  thought  2 1 

to  it  —  than  the  more  mechanical  forms  of  versification 
in  use  among  other  nations.  Even  in  our  English  trans- 
lation this  characteristic  of  the  Hebrew  poetry  is  audible 

to  us  : 

(i)     The  heavens  declare  the  glory  of  God, 

And  the  firmament  sheweth  his  handiwork, 
(ii)      Day  unto  day  uttereth  speech, 

Ami  night  unto  night  sheweth  knowledge. 
(hi)      I  have  considered  the  days  of  old 

The  years  of  ancient  time, 
(iv)     Is  his  mercy  clean  gone  for  ever? 

And  will  he  be  favourable  no  more? 
(v)      Hath  God  forgotten  to  be  gracious? 

Hath  he  in  anger  shut  up  his  tender  mercies, 
(vi)     Thy  word  is  a  lamp  unto  my  feet 

And  a  light  unto  my  path, 
(vii)     He  niaketh  me  to  lie  dow-n  in  green  pastures, 

He  leadeth  me  beside  the  still  waters, 
(viii)     Thy  righteousness  is  like  the  strong  mountains, 

Thy  judgments  are  like  the  great  deep. 

As  these  and  the  like  resounding  sentences  fall  upon 
our  ears  we  cannot  help  feeling  that  the  reduplication 
of  the  thought  is  at  least  as  effective  a  poetical  device 
as  any  of  the  merely  verbal  assonances  and  uniformities 
to  which  we  are  accustomed  in  other  poetry.  But  to 
teachers  this  characteristic  of  the  Hebrew  verse  is  especi- 
ally suggestive,  for  it  may  remind  us  of  one  principle  of 
pedagogic  science  which  is  true  everywhere  and  in  all 
ages  of  the  world.  Iteration  and  reiteration  are  the 
distinguishing  marks  of  the  process  adopted  by  the  Bible 
teachers.  But  it  is  the  reiteration  of  thought  rather 
than  of  words.  The  image,  the  precept,  the  prayer,  are 
repeated,  but  the  language  is  varied.  Now  this  practice 
might  be  defended  —  if  defence  were  needed  —  on  two 
different  grounds.  Minds  differ  no  less  in  their  receptive 
than   in    their   cognitive   powers.      Truth,  which  in  one 


22    Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

form  finds  ready  entrance  into  some  minds,  needs  to  be 
cast  into  another  form  in  order  to  appeal  to  minds  of  a 
different  stamp.  Hence  to  present  the  same  idea  in  two 
aspects  and  under  two  or  more  forms  of  language  is  to 
give  it  an  additional  chance  of  obtaining  admission  into 
the  understanding  of  some  of  those  whom  we  teach. 
And  a  deeper  reason  still  is  to  be  found  in  the  fact  that 
every  truth  admits  of  being  stated  in  more  than  one 
shape,  and  that  the  resources  of  language,  great  as 
they  are,  are  far  from  being  commensurate  with  all  the 
demands  of  the  human  reason,  or  with  the  many-sided 
nature  of  truth  itself.  There  is  no  one  form  of  words 
which  will  adequately  embody  the  whole  meaning  of  any 
doctrine  or  precept  we  wish  to  enforce  ;  and  we  ourselves 
are  never  quite  sure  that  we  have  grasped  a  truth,  until 
we  have  turned  it  round  in  our  minds,  and  learned  to 
express  it  in  different  forms. 
Stereotyped  Herein  lies  a  warning  against  relying  too  much  on 
rieTand  f°rmular'es>  and  against  the  excessive  use  of  catechisms 
creeds.  and  memory  lessons.  They  often  serve  rather  as  sub- 
stitutes for  real  teaching  than  as  aids  to  it.  It  is  observ- 
able that  the  only  formulary  in  the  New  Testament  is 
a  prayer  —  a  form  of  devotion,  not  a  creed  or  an  explicit 
declaration  of  belief  in  certain  propositions.  It  was  not 
consistent  with  our  Lord's  method  of  instruction  to  write 
a  book  or  to  dictate  a  code  or  articles  of  faith.  No 
doubt  in  the  later  stages  in  the  development  of  the 
Christian  Church,  it  has  been  found  both  useful  and 
expedient  to  put  together  in  a  formal  shape  a  group  of 
theological  statements,  and  to  require  that  they  should 
be  accepted  by  the  members  of  the  Church  as  a  symbol 
of  religious  unity.  The  Council  of  Nicaea,  the  West- 
minster Assembly,  and  the  framers  of  the  Church 
Catechism,  have  set   forth  detailed   declarations   of  the 


Creeds  and  formularies 


*S 


articles  of  Christian  belief,  and  have  made  the  intellectual 
reception  of  these  articles  the  condition  and  'the  test  of 
Church  membership.  Experience  has  shewn  the  con- 
venience of  this  practice.  The  desire  for  definiteness 
and  certitude  is  always  strong  in  the  minds  of  many, 
especially  in  those  who  are  least  instructed  and  least 
accustomed  to  the  exercise  of  thought.  Creeds  and 
formularies  satisfy  this  desire.  They  are  easily  harboured 
in  the  memory,  whether  they  have  found  their  way  to 
the  understanding  or  not.  Yet  they  embody  for  us  only 
what  some  society  or  council  has  decreed  to  be  the 
essentials  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  do  not  profess  to 
have  the  same  authority  as  the  Scriptures  themselves. 
And  whatever  may  be  the  practical  advantages  of  pre- 
senting to  the  Christian  child  a  condensed  summary  of 
the  theological  propositions  to  which  he  is  called  on  to 
declare  his  assent,  this  usage  cannot  be  said  to  derive  any 
sanction  either  from  the  precepts  or  the  practice  of  our 
Lord  and  His  apostles. 

But  in  religious  teaching,  as  in  all  other  teaching,  the 
value  of  formal  statements  of  truth  depends  entirely  on 
the  degree  in  which  they  are  understood  and  mentally 
assimilated.  The  learning  by  heart  of  such  formal  state- 
ments, so  far  from  being  a  help,  is  often  a  mere  substitute 
for  thinking,  and  to  that  extent  a  hindrance  to  the  actual 
acceptance  and  assimilation  of  the  doctrine  involved. 
And  whatever  care  may  have  been  taken  to  express  a 
truth  in  the  tersest  and  most  appropriate  language,  that 
language  itself  requires  to  be  paraphrased  and  restated 
in  the  scholar's  own  language,  if  it  is  to  be  of  any  real 
educational  value.  And  herein,  as  in  all  else  we  teach,  we 
have  to  beware  of  verbalism,  and  to  abstain  from  identi- 
fying the  substance  of  our  lessons  with  any  particular 
phraseology  however  choice.     In  this  way  we  follow  the 


24    Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

example  of  the  Hebrew  writers  who  habitually  turned 
the  subject  round,  so  to  speak,  looked  at  it  in  several 
lights,  surveyed  both  facets  of  the  diamond,  and  thus 
were  enabled  to  add  to  the  beauty  and  attractiveness, 
and  also  to  the  moral  effectiveness  of  their  teaching. 

Whence  then  cometh  wisdom? 

And  where  is  the  place  of  understanding? 

It  cannot  he  gotten  for  gold, 

Neither  shall  silver  be  weighed  for  the  price  thereof. 

God  understandeth  the  way  thereof, 

And  he  knoweth  the  place  thereof. 

And  unto  man  he  saith, 

Behold,  the  fear  of  the  Lord,  that  is  wisdom; 

And  to  depart  from  evil  is  understanding.1 

Proverbs.  A  less  effective,  but  still  very  prominent  instrument 

of  teaching  in  the  Old  Testament,  is  the  Proverb. 
Solomon  is  generally  credited  with  the  authorship  of 
the  book,  in  which  his  large  experience  of  mankind,  and 
some  shrewd  worldly  wisdom,  are  concentrated  into  brief 
telling  sentences  generally  antithetical  in  form,  and  dupli- 
cated after  the  manner  of  the  Hebrew  poetry  : 

(i)    A  wi^e  son  maketh  a  glad  father, 

But  a  foolish  son  is  the  heaviness  of  his  mother. 

(ii)    The  full  soul  loatheth  a  honeycomb, 

But  to  the  hungry  soul,  every  bitter  thing  is  sweet. 

(hi)    The  wicked  flee  when  no  man  pursueth, 
But  the  righteous  are  bold  as  a  lion. 

(iv)    The  full  soul  loatheth  an  honeycomb,  but  to  the  hungry  soul 
every  bitter  thing  is  sweet. 

There  is  something  very  striking  in  the  aphoristic 
form  in  which  truths  and  maxims  of  conduct  are  here 
presented,  and  in  all  nations  proverbs  are  often  quoted 
and  have  a  recognized  value.  Why  is  it  however  that 
they  are  so  little  effective  as  means  of  instruction  ?     The 

1  Job  xxviii. 


Proverbs  25 

reason  probably  lies  in  the  fact  that  there  is  often  in 
them  more  of  wit  than  of  wisdom,  and  more  of  alliteration 
and  of  point  than  of  sterling  worth.  There  is  apt  to  be 
an  air  of  paradox  and  unreality  about  them.  Truth,  as 
we  have  said,  is  many-sided.  Present  it  how  you  will, 
it  has  its  nuances,  its  qualifications,  its  exceptions.  You 
cannot  condense  it  into  formula.  The  epigrammatic 
form  often  hides  a  fallacy.  The  proverb  enunciates  itself 
boldly,  without  compromise  or  misgiving.  It  probably 
founds  itself  on  a  more  or  less  restricted  area  of  ex- 
perience, yet  it  asserts  itself  as  if  it  were  a  statement 
of  a  permanent  and  universal  law.  Moreover,  if  you 
study  collections  such  as  George  Herbert's  Jacula  Pru- 
dentum,  and  the  abundant  store  of  Oriental  and  of 
Spanish,  of  Arabic,  of  French,  and  of  Italian  proverbs, 
you  will  often  find  that  different  proverbs,  both  ap- 
parently true,  and  indeed  containing  half-truths,  are 
mutually  destructive  and  contradictory  : 

(i)     Answer  not  a  fool  according  to  his  folly, 
Lest  thou  also  be  like  unto  him. 

(ii)    Answer  a  fool  according  to  his  folly, 
Lest  he  be  wise  in  his  own  conceit. 

On  this  point  Mr  John  Morley  has  truly  said  : 

"  The  worst  of  maxims,  aphorisms  and  the  like  is  that  from  the 
sayings  of  Solomon  and  the  son  of  Sirach  downwards,  that  for 
every  occasion  of  life  or  perplexity,  there  is  a  brace  of  them,  the 
one  pointing  one  way  and  another  the  exact  opposite.  The  finger- 
post of  experience  has  many  arms  at  every  cross-way.  One 
observer  tells  the  disciple  that  in  politics  perseverance  always  wins, 
another  that  men  who  take  the  greatest  trouble  to  succeed  are  those 
who  are  most  sure  to  miss.  To-day  the  one  essential  appears  to  be 
boldness  of  conception  —  Toujours  Vatidace.  To-morrow  the  man  of 
detail  is  master  of  the  hour.  To-day  the  turn  of  things  inclines  a 
man  to  say  that  in  politics  nothing  matters;  to  morrow  some  other 
turn  teaches  him  that  in  politics  everything  matters."  l 

1  Article  on  Guicciardini,  Nineteenth  Century,  Nov.  1897. 


26    Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

Proverbs  Moreover,  the  proverb  is  much  more  interesting  and 

beUer  intelligible  to  older    people    than    to    children.     It  is  a 

siated  to  °  * 

older  than  generalization  often  founded  on  an  extensive  observation 
to  younger  Q{  tne  woru    or  a  knowledge  of  good  and  evil,  and  it 

learners.  . 

presupposes  a  much  larger  experience  of  life  than  boys 
and  girls  have  had  opportunities  of  obtaining.  To  the 
young  scholar,  whatever  principles  of  duty  are  presented 
should  come  in  a  concrete  form  and  should  be  connected 
with  the  persons  and  the  incidents  of  his  own  neces- 
sarily restricted  life.  Aphorisms,  abstract  truths,  large 
general  maxims  affecting  mankind  as  a  whole  have  little 
meaning  for  him.  He  has  for  the  present  no  more 
interest  in  mankind  as  a  whole,  or  in  the  human  race 
considered  collectively,  than  he  has  in  ethical  and  political 
truths  set  out  in  the  form  of  universal  propositions.  He 
may  perhaps  arrive  at  these  as  life  advances,  but  it  is 
beginning  at  the  wrong  end  to  force  them  upon  his  atten- 
tion in  youth.  It  is  observable  that  very  little  of  our 
Lord's  own  teaching  took  the  form  of  proverbs,  or  of 
phrases  which  were  to  abide  in  the  memory.  He  relied 
much  more  on  stories  and  concrete  illustrations  of  moral 
duty  and  religious  truth  than  on  bare  and  abstract 
generalizations  about  either.  And  we  are  fain  to  con- 
clude that  of  all  the  manifold  devices  by  which  instruction 
is  imparted  by  the  writers  of  the  Bible,  the  proverb  is  one 
of  the  least  important,  and  is  certainly  least  likely  to 
prove  helpful  to  the  teacher  of  the  young. 
Biography.  I  have  elsewhere  *  commented  more  fully  on  the  use 
made  by  the  sacred  writers  of  biography  as  ancillary  to 
the  study  of  history.  In  fact  the  historical  portions  of  the 
Old  and  New  Testaments  consist  rather  of  a  series  of 
biographies  than  of  a  connected  chronological  narrative 
of  events.  What  you  and  I  know  of  the  pastoral  life  of 
1  In  Lectures  on  Teaching,  Chapter  xin. 


Biography  27 

the  patriarchal  times,  we  have  learned  in  connexion  with 
the  story  of  Abraham  and  his  children.  If  we  have 
before  our  minds  a  vivid  picture  of  Ancient  Egypt,  its 
polity,  its  social  and  industrial  condition,  it  is  not  because 
we  have  read  a  treatise  on  these  subjects,  but  because  they 
are  all  illustrated  incidentally  in  the  story  of  Joseph  and 
his  brethren.  So  the  subsequent  events  in  the  Jewish  an- 
nals are  known  to  us  in  connexion  with  the  lives  of  Moses, 
of  Samuel,  of  David,  of  Hezekiah,  and  of  Judas  Maccabseus. 
Held  in  solution,  so  to  speak,  in  the  biographies  of  these 
men  are  not  only  facts  about  the  national  history,  but 
illustrations  of  human  character  and  duty,  and  the  princi- 
ples of  the  Divine  government.  These  illustrations  are 
all  the  more  impressive  when  thus  presented  in  the 
concrete,  as  part  of  the  story  of  lives  in  which  we  are 
interested,  and  in  which  are  to  be  seen  records  of  failures 
and  successes,  of  great  faults  and  great  virtues,  "  the 
glory  and  the  littleness  of  man."  If  we  look  into  our  own 
experience  we  shall  be  reminded  that  we  did  not  first  of 
all  feel  an  interest  in  historical  events  and  afterwards 
enquire  who  the  people  were  who  had  a  hand  in  them. 
What  happened  was  this  —  we  were  first  attracted  to  some 
great  person's  character  or  deeds  of  heroism,  and  having 
once  felt  interested  in  him,  we  began  to  care  about  the 
events  in  which  he  took  part.  The  practice  now  adopted 
in  the  public  elementary  schools  of  England  corresponds 
to  this  experience.  Children  in  the  lower  classes  are  not 
asked  to  read  connective  narratives  of  events  beginning 
and  proceeding  by  regular  sequence  from  the  Ancient 
Britons  to  the  age  of  Victoria.  But  their  earliest  lessons 
in  history  are  anecdotal  and  biographical,  and  are  asso- 
ciated with  the  most  dramatic  incidents  in  the  annals  of 
England,  and  the  personal  characteristics  and  adventures 
of  the  leading  actors.     Herein  the  course  of  instruction 


28    Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

prescribed    by   authority    in    our    primary    schools,    and 

adopted  so  largely  by  good  teachers  elsewhere,  follows  the 

precedent  set  by  the  Bible  historians  ;  for  it  presents  to 

the  learner  a  series  of  biographical  sketches  as  the  chief 

links  in  the  chain  of  historical  testimony,  connected  with 

the  more  conspicuous  national  events ;   and  it  assumes 

that  future  and  more  systematic  knowledge  will,  as  it  is 

acquired,  fit  itself  readily  into  the  intervening  spaces. 

The  A  noble   addition    has   recently  been   made   to   the 

National    educational   resources  of  London   in   the   form  of  the 

Portrait  ... 

Gallery.      National    Portrait    Gallery,    in   which    are    arranged   in 

chronological  order  the  portraits  of  all  the  most  famous 
sovereigns,  statesmen,  divines,  writers,  and  military  and 
naval  commanders  of  the  last  four  centuries.  As  a 
means  of  fixing  and  strengthening  the  impressions  de- 
rived from  history,  this  gallery,  though  its  possibilities  of 
usefulness  are  at  present  insufficiently  appreciated,  has 
already  proved  of  great  value  to  many  London  teachers. 
A  class,  for  example,  which  has  lately  been  engaged  in 
the  study  of  the  Stuart  period,  is  taken  to  the  three 
Seventeenth  Century  rooms,  and  invited  to  look  at- the 
pictures  of  all  the  famous  men  and  women  of  the  time, 
to  notice  their  dress,  the  insignia  of  their  various  offices, 
and  so  to  recall  the  parts  they  have  respectively  played 
in  the  drama  of  our  national  history.  Thus  the  personal 
interest  in  the  actors  is  awakened  or  revived,  further 
enquiry  is  stimulated,  and  impressions  conveyed  in  class 
leading,  or  in  oral  lessons  become  more  vivid  and 
permanent. 
Examples  There  is  a  remarkable  chapter  in  the  Epistle  to  the 
Hebrews,  in  which  the  writer  unfolds  to  his  countrymen 
what  is  in  fact  a  National  Portrait  Gallery,  as  he  enume- 
rates, one  by  one,  the  heroes  and  saints  of  the  Jewi  li 
history,  and  adds  to  his  catalogue  these  inspiring  words  : 


of  great- 
ness 


Narrative  power  29 

And  what  shall  I  more  say?  for  the  time  would  fail  me  to  tell 
of  those  *  *  *  who  through  faith  subdued  kingdoms,  wrought 
righteousness,  obtained  promises,  stopped  the  mouths  of  lions, 
quenched  the  violence  of  fire,  escaped  the  edge  of  the  sword,  out 
of  weakness  were  made  strong,  waxed  valiant  in  fight,  turned  to 
flight  the  armies  of  the  aliens.1 

And  finally  he  draws  this  conclusion  from  his  long 
retrospect : 

Wherefore  seeing  we  are  compassed  about  with  so  great  a 
cloud  of  witnesses,  let  us  lay  aside  every  weight  and  the  sin  which 
doth  so  easily  beset  us,  and  let  us  run  with  patience  the  race  that  is 
set  before  us.'2 

How  much  of  the  philosophy  of  history  is  condensed 
into  that  single  sentence  !  It  is  suggestive  to  us  of  the 
ethical  purpose  which  should  dominate  all  our  historical 
teaching.  To  what  end  do  we  live  in  a  country  whose 
annals  are  enriched  by  the  story  of  great  talents,  high 
endeavours  and  noble  sacrifices,  if  we  do  not  become 
more  conscious  of  the  possibilities  of  our  own  life,  and 
more  anxious  to  live  worthily  of  the  inheritance  which 
has  come  down  to  us  ? 

We  are  thus  reminded  of  one  remarkable  character-  Narrative 
istic  of  the  sacred  historians  —  their  gift  of  the  art  of  power. 
simple  and  artistic  narrative.  Read  the  story  of  Jacob 
and  his  fraudulent  acquisition  of  his  father's  blessing 
(Genesis  xxxix.),  of  Samson  (Judges  xvi.),  of  Samuel 
(1  Samuel  ii.  and  hi.),  of  the  calling  of  David  (1  Samuel 
xvi.),  of  the  death  of  Absalom  (2  Samuel  xviii.),  of  the 
Queen  of  Sheba  (1  Kings  x.),  of  Elijah's  sacrifice  ( 1  Kings 
xviii.),  of  the  building  of  the  Temple  (1  Chronicles  xxviii. 
and  xxix.),  of  Solomon's  choice  (2  Chronicles  i.),  of  Daniel 
and  Nebuchadnezzar  (Daniel  ii.  —  vi.)  ;  and  in  the  New 
Testament  the  narrative  of  the  Passion  and  the  Crucifixion 
(Matthew  xxvi.,  xxvii.),  of  the  first  Whitsuntide  (Acts  ii. 
1  Hebrews  xi.  32 — 34.  2  Hebrews  xii.  1. 


30  Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

and  iii.),  of  St  Paul's  defence  before  Agrippa  (Acts  xxv., 
xxvi.),  and  his  voyage  and  shipwreck  (Acts  xxvii.)  ; 
and  then  consider  critically  in  each  case  what  the  writer 
was  simply  as  a  raconteur,  and  how  the  story  is  to  be 
regarded  simply  as  a  work  of  art.  I  think  you  will  be 
struck  with  the  skill,  the  reticence,  and  the  clearness 
by  which  the  narratives  are  distinguished.  All  the  little 
incidental  facts  are  kept  in  their  due  perspective,  and 
yet  contribute  to  the  effectiveness  of  the  main  story. 
The  narrator  keeps  the  chief  purpose  full  in  view,  steers 
clear  of  all  moralizing  or  rhetoric,  which  might  impair 
the  unity  and  force  of  the  impression  he  wishes  to 
convey,  and  yet  he  does  not  disdain  to  adorn  the 
narrative  with  picturesque  detail.  To  all  teachers  this 
same  power  of  telling  a  good  story  is  a  very  useful  gift, 
and  the  occasions  for  its  exercise  are  very  numerous. 
It  is  a  power  which  seems  to  come  naturally  and  without 
effort  to  some  people  who  are  gifted  with  a  vivid  imagina- 
tion and  with  the  dramatic  instinct ;  but  it  may  be  acquired 
or  at  least  greatly  improved  by  any  one  who  begins  by 
thinking  the  power  worth  acquiring,  and  who  will  study 
the  best  models  and  try  to  imitate  them. 

Note,  too,  that  in  story-telling  there  are  other  differ- 
ences. Mere  sequence  of  facts  in  right  order  does  not 
make  a  good  narrative.  Unless  there  is  a  guiding  motif, 
some  purpose  in  view,  some  warmth,  colour,  feeling,  the 
narrative  is  very  ineffective.  There  were  once  two  men 
conversing  sadly  as  they  walked  along  from  Jerusalem 
to  a  village  called  Emmaus,  when  a  Stranger  drew  near 
and  talked  to  them.  He  heard  their  story,  sympathized 
with  their  bewilderment,  and,  beginning  at  Moses  and 
the  prophets,  interpreted  to  them  many  things  in  history 
and  in  the  Scriptures  which  they  had  never  perceived 
before.      At    the    end    of    the    interview,    when    their 


Parables  3 1 

companion  had  left  them,  they  said  one  to  another,  "  1  >id 
not  our  heart  burn  within  us"  while  He  spoke.  The 
discourse  had  been  narrative  and  expository  only,  not, 
we  may  suppose,  making  any  appeal  to  emotion,  yet  it 
made  the  hearts  of  the  hearers  burn.  You  cannot  ac- 
count for  the  use  of  this  expression  without  recognizing 
that  there  had  been  a  story  indeed,  but  something  more 
than  a  story  —  inspiration,  and  such  a  presentation  of 
truth  as  called  out  responsive  sympathy,  and  appealed 
to  the  conscience  as  much  as  it  informed  the  under- 
standing. And  in  like  manner  our  own  narrative  and 
historical  lessons  may  become  very  dry  and  barren  if 
there  does  not  lie  behind  them  some  enthusiasm  for 
what  is  right  and  noble,  and  some  scorn  for  what  is 
base,  and  some  sense  that  there  is  a  moral  and  spiritual 
significance  in  the  facts  of  human  life.  "  While  I  was 
musing,"  said  David,  "  the  fire  kindled,  and  at  last 
I  spake  with  my  tongue."  Mere  utterance  of  words, 
even  the  best  words,  comes  to  little  unless  there  has 
been  not  only  the  previous  musing  and  study,  but  also 
a  genuine  warmth  and  strong  interest  in  relation  to  the 
subject  taught. 

Of  all  the  methods  employed  by  the  sacred  writers  Parables. 
for  elucidating  and  enforcing  truth,  one  of  the  most 
characteristic  is  the  parable  or  apologue.  Jotham's  fable 
about  the  trees,  Nathan's  story  addressed  to  David  about 
the  rich  man  and  the  ewe  lamb,  are  examples  of  this 
parabolic  teaching  in  the  Old  Testament.  And  such 
teaching  was  the  sole  distinctive  feature  of  our  Lord's 
discourses.  "  Without  a  parable  spake  He  not  unto 
them."  The  reasons  assigned  by  the  Evangelists  for 
this  practice  may  not  be  perfectly  intelligible  or  very 
obviously  consistent  with  one  another.  But  the  impress- 
iveness  of  the  method  has  been  recognized   perhaps  in 


32   Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

the  highest  degree  by  Oriental  races,  but  also  in  large 
measure  among  the  less  imaginative  Teutonic  and  Latin 
communities.  To  this  hour  Christian  children  are  more 
attracted  by  the  parables  than  by  any  other  portion  of 
the  Evangelical  record  ;  and  Christian  teachers  in  select- 
ing for  the  young  such  portions  of  Scripture  as  do  not 
involve  theological  controversy  or  difficulties  of  belief 
find  the  stories  which  form  so  large  a  portion  of  the 
Gospels  best  suited  for  their  purpose.  They  deal  with 
subjects  of  universal  human  interest.  Some  of  them, 
such  as  the  Parable  of  the  Sower,  are  striking  represen- 
tations of  the  facts  of  spiritual  experience.  Others, 
such  as  the  Prodigal  Son  and  the  Good  Shepherd,  are 
picturesque  illustrations  of  the  Divine  character  and  of 
the  relation  of  the  Heavenly  Father  to  His  erring  children. 
Others,  such  as  the  Good  Samaritan,  enforce  powerfully 
our  dependence  on  one  another  for  succour  in  trouble. 
Every  such  parable  carries  hidden  in  it  some  ethical  or 
religious  significance,  but  its  significance  is  not  set  forth 
in  formal  language.  The  preacher  does  not  appear  to 
obtrude  His  moral :  the  hearer  is  left  to  make  the  appli- 
cation for  himself.  Herein  lies  the  special  force  of  the 
allegorical  method  of  teaching.  The  learner  is  attracted 
by  the  story,  and  regards  it  at  first  as  a  story  only.  Soon 
he  begins  to  perceive  its  underlying  meaning.  He 
changes  the  attitude  of  his  mind,  transfers  the  interpre- 
tation from  the  material  to  the  moral  and  spiritual  world, 
and  to  the  inner  sphere  of  his  own  experience,  and  then 
draws  the  conclusion  which,  though  unexpressed,  was 
intended  by  the  teacher.  David  listened  to  the  apologue 
of  Nathan  till  "  his  anger  was  greatly  kindled  against  the 
man,"  and  he  listened  to  all  the  more  purpose  because 
he  did  not  perceive  throughout  that  the  story  related  to 
himself.     De  te  fab  it  I  a  narratur,  "Thou  art  the  man," 


The  use  of  allegory  in  teaching 


came  as  a  revelation  to  him,  all  the  more  impressive 
because  it  was  unexpected,  and  because  he  had  reached 
by  his  own  efforts  a  right  moral  judgment.  In  a  parable 
the  learner  finds  his  own  way  to  a  conclusion,  and  for 
this  reason  the  conclusion  when  arrived  at  is  found  to 
be  impressive.  He  has  been  invited  to  take  a  prin- 
cipal share  in  thinking  out  the  question,  and  so  he 
feels  when  the  inference  is  arrived  at  that  it  is  his  own. 
When  a  critical  hearer  put  to  the  Master  the  question 
"Who  is  my  neighbour?"  the  answer  was  not  the  direct 
categorical  definition  he  probably  expected,  but  it  took 
the  form  of  a  story  about  a  man  on  a  journey  who 
fell  among  thieves.  And  at  the  end  of  the  story  the 
questioner  was  himself  confronted  with  the  enquiry, 
"  Which  now  of  these  three  thinkest  thou  was  neighbour 
unto  him  who  fell  among  thieves?"  The  apologue  had 
helped  the  enquirer  to  discover  his  own  answer  to  a 
difficult  question  in  practical  ethics.  Such  an  answer 
was  much  more  likely  to  be  remembered  than  if  it  had 
been  given  in  a  direct  and  didactic  form. 

And  to  the  end  of  time  teachers  will  find  that  fables  The  use  of 
and  allegories  form  an  attractive  and  useful  part  of  their  a  ef0,-v. 

°  I  in  teacn- 

educational  apparatus:  (i)  because  the  truth  that  is ing. 
hidden  in  them  is  not  visible  at  first  sight,  but  has  to 
be  discovered  by  the  indirect  method  of  analogy ;  and 
(2)  because  when  we  thus  discover  the  meaning  of  a 
parable  we  cease  to  be  mere  disciples  or  recipients,  and 
become  our  own  teachers.  And  he  who  becomes  his 
own  teacher  has  a  very  interesting  and  docile  pupil,  and 
his  lessons  have  a  better  chance  than  others  of  be- 
coming effective.  There  are  of  course  necessary  limits  to 
the  application  of  any  analogies  between  the  phenomena 
of  the  visible  and  those  of  the  spiritual  world.  We  must 
not    force  into  allegories   meanings  which   they  will  not 

D 


34  Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

reasonably  bear,  nor  use  unreal  stories  evidently  manu- 
factured for  a  didactic  purpose.  This  form  of  instruc- 
tion must  be  used  sparingly,  and  only  when  the  story 
is  striking  and  self-consistent ;  with  its  moral  honestly 
interwoven  in  its  fabric  and  not  a  purpureus  pannus 
tacked  on  for  ornament.  Subject  only  to  these  pre- 
cautions, we  may  well  look  out  in  our  own  general 
reading  for  good  stories  or  apologues,  and  have  them 
ready  for  use  when  the  suitable  occasion  offers,  and  we 
shall  find  that  the  method  of  instruction  adopted  by  the 
greatest  of  all  teachers  nineteen  centuries  ago  has  not 
lost  its  force,  but  may  still  be  employed  with  excellent 
effect  in  English  schools  and  nurseries. 
Parables  Closely  akin  to  narrative  parables  are  the  references 

°-l  Aatl" e-  which  abound  in  the  Bible  to  the  facts  and  phenomena 
of  Nature  as  means  of  enforcing  moral  and  religious 
truth.  Our  Lord  constantly  availed  Himself  of  the 
familiar  incidents  of  daily  life  —  the  blowing  of  the 
wind,  the  farm  yard,  the  birds'  nests,  the  fishing-vessel. 
"  Consider  the  lillies  of  the  field,  how  they  grow."  "  Be- 
hold the  fowls  of  the  air,  for  they  sow  not,  neither  do 
they  reap  nor  gather  into  barns.  Yet  your  heavenly 
Father  feedeth  them."  There  are  beauty  and  point  here, 
but  there  is  reticence  too.  The  analogy  is  not  forced, 
and  is  not  made  to  sustain  more  meaning  than  it  can 
properly  bear.  As  an  illustration  of  the  brooding  tender- 
ness of  the  Saviour  over  His  wayward  people,  the  image 
of  the  mother-bird  protecting  her  young  is  felt  by  all 
of  us  to  be  simple,  affecting  and  appropriate.  As  a 
means  of  confirming  belief  in  the  providential  care  of 
God  over  His  creatures  the  references  to  flowers  and 
trees  and  to  the  lower  animals,  which  without  forethought 
are  preserved  in  health  and  beauty  by  a  care  not  their 
own,  find  their  way  to  the  teachable  heart  and  conscience 


Lessons  from  Nature  35 

with  great  effect.     And  within  the  limits  which  our  Lord 

Himself  observed,  in  using  these   simple  and  touching 

similitudes,  good  teachers  may  wisely  use  Nature's  lessons 

as  auxiliary  to  their   own.      But    there  is  a  temptation 

among  some  teachers  to  overstep  the  true  boundary  of 

analogy  and  illustration,  and  to  deduce  lessons  from  the 

facts  and  aspects  of  Nature  which  the  premisses  will  not 

justify.     I  hear  teachers  sometimes  who  are  so  bent  on 

'  pointing  a  moral '  that  they  seem  to  think  it  necessary, 

in  every  lesson  on  a  plant  or  animal,  to  wind  up  with 

some  moral  reflection.     Solomon  lias  in  part  set  them 

the  example,  "  Go  to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard,  consider  her 

ways  and  be  wise,  which  having  no  guide,  overseer  or 

ruler,  provideth  her  meat  in  the  summer  and  gathereth 

her  food  in  the  harvest."     Isaiah  too  rebukes  the  "  sinful 

nation,  a  people  laden  with  iniquity,  a  seed  of  evil-doers," 

by  reference   to   the   behaviour   of  the   lower   animals. 

"  The  ox  knoweth  his  owner  and  the  ass  his  master's 

crib,  but   Israel  doth   not  know ;    my  people  doth   not 

consider."     In  like  manner,  it  has  not  been  uncommon 

for  writers  of  books  for  the  young  to  refer  to  the  habits 

of  animals  as  if  they  furnished  precepts  and  examples 

for  the  conduct  of  human  beings.     Here,  for  example,  is  False  and 

an  extract  from  a  poem  much  admired  in  the  eighteenth  itra7ned 
1  °  moraliz- 

century :  ingfrom 

"The  daily  labours  of  the  bee  Nature. 

Awake  my  soul  to  industry; 

Who  can  observe  the  careful  ant 

And  not  provide  for  future  want? 

In  constancy  and  nuptial  love 

I  learn  my  duty  from  the  dove. 

The  hen  that  from  the  chilly  air 

With  pious  wing  protects  her  care 

And  every  fowl  that  flies  at  large 

Instructs  me  in  a  parent's  charge. 


36    Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

Thus  every  object  of  creation 
Can  furnish  hints  to  contemplation, 
And  from  the  most  minute  and  mean 
A  virtuous  mind  can  morals  glean."  1 

And  we  are  all  familiar  with  Dr  Watts's  instructive  little 
homilies  :  e.g. 

"  How  doth  the  little  busy  bee 
Improve  each  shining  hour ! 

So,  like  the  sun,  would  I  fulfil 
The  business  of  the  day." 

Cowper,  moralizing   on    human  vanity,  is   to   the   same 
effect : 

"The  self-applauding  bird,  the  peacock,  see; 
Mark  what  a  sumptuous  1'harisee  is  he." 

No  doubt  there  is  something  attractive  in  these  references 
to  Nature ;  but  there  is  after  all  little  or  no  basis  for  the 
inferences  which  are  often  drawn  from  them.  A  child 
of  ordinary  intelligence  and  healthy  conscience  rebels 
against  such  teaching.  He  does  not  put  his  objection 
into  words,  that  would  be  rude  and  disrespectful  to  you. 
But  he  knows  that  the  premiss  will  not  sustain  the  con- 
clusion. The  industry  of  the  bee,  the  forecast  of  the 
ant,  the  skill  of  the  spider  or  the  silkworm,  the  air  with 
which  birds  wear  rich  plumage,  he  knows  to  be  the 
results  of  inherited  animal  instinct,  which  has  no  moral 
significance  at  all,  and  which  forms  no  guide  for  respon- 
sible human  beings,  who  are  endowed  with  power  to 
control  their  own  actions.  That  the  lark  rises  early  in 
the  morning  is  no  reason  why  we  should  do  the  same. 
That  the  bee  buzzes  about  all  the  summer  day  among 
the  flowers  is  a  pleasing  fact  in  Natural  history,  but  it 
has  no  bearing  whatever  on  the  industry  of  your  life  or 
1  Gay,  Introduction  to  Fables. 


Strained  and  misleading  analogies  37 

mine.  Let  us  beware  of  confusing  the  moral  perceptions 
of  children  by  assuming  a  connexion  here  which  does 
not  really  exist.  We  must  not  mistake  illustration  for 
proof.  Whatever  happens,  let  us  at  least  be  honest  with 
the  little  ones,  and  not  offer  to  them  arguments  which 
we  should  reject  as  invalid,  or  analogies  which  we  should 
know  to  be  fallacious,  if  they  were  addressed  to  our- 
selves. By  way  of  picturesque  and  occasional  references 
these  allusions  may  have  a  certain  petty  appositeness, 
but  if  it  is  seriously  proposed  to  employ  them  for  the 
enforcement  of  doctrine  or  precept,  we  may  easily  defeat 
our  own  purpose.  A  formidable  Nemesis  awaits  the 
teacher  or  the  parent  who  fails  to  bear  this  in  mind, 
for  the  day  soon  comes  when  the  young  scholar  detects 
that  there  was  a  moral  falsetto  in  such  teaching,  and 
his  confidence  in  the  good  sense  and  honesty  of  his 
teacher  is  permanently  weakened. 

It  is  especially  instructive  to  observe  the  method  of  The  co- 
our  Lord's  teaching  when  enquirers  came  to  Him  with  SXaJfer 
difficulties,    and   with   ethical    problems    to    be    solved,  andtaught 
Men  approached  Him,  expecting  to  be  referred  to  some  '/l/J'^f" 
definite  rule  or  formula,  but  were  disappointed  to  find  problems. 
themselves  referred  instead  to  some  larger  principle  of 
action,  which  they  were  first  to  see  in  all  its  breadth  and 
then  to  apply  for  themselves  to  the  particular  case  in  hand. 
"Is  it  lawful  to  heal  on  the   Sabbath  day?"     To   this 
appeal  the  answer  came  in  the  form  of  a  counter  ques- 
tion, "  What  man  shall  there  be  of  you  that  shall  have 
one  sheep,  and  if  this  fall  into  a  pit  on  the  Sabbath  day, 
will  he  not  lay  hold  on  it  and  lift  it  out?"1     In  other 
words,  try  to  see  clearly  the  great  law  of  humanity  and 
duty,  and   then   look  at  this   case  in  the    light  of  that 
law.     Simon  the   Pharisee   had    some  misgivings  about 

1  Matthew  xii.  II, 


38   Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

recognizing  a  certain  sinful  woman,  and  the  Master 
rejoined,  "  Simon,  I  have  somewhat  to  say  to  thee,"  and 
He  then  tells  a  story  about  a  creditor  and  two  debtors, 
and  appeals  to  his  host  to  say  which  of  the  two,  after 
they  have  been  generously  forgiven,  will  love  the  creditor 
most.  Afterwards  comes  the  response,  "Thou  hast  rightly 
judged,"1  and  this  is  followed  -up  by  a  clear  exposition, 
not  only  of  the  particular  course  which  ought  to  be 
taken  in  this  case,  but  also  of  the  great  law  of  Christian 
charity  and  tolerance  which  ought  to  dominate  all  such 
cases. 

In  these  and  many  other  of  our  Lord's  recorded 
conversations,  it  will  be  observed  that  He  often  asked 
for  the  co-operation  of  the  learner,  and  gave  him  some 
of  the  thinking  to  do  for  himself.  His  answer  was 
seldom  oracular  or  conclusive.  He  did  not  wish  to  save 
the  disciple  from  the  responsibility  of  working  out  the 
required  conclusion  for  himself.  His  attitude  was  that  of 
one  who  takes  the  disciple  into  his  confidence  and  says 
in  effect :  —  The  question  is  hard,  perhaps  harder  than 
it  looks.  Come  and  let  us  examine  it  together.  "  How 
think  you?"  At  another  time  the  question  is  asked, 
"Who  is  the  greatest  in  the  kingdom  of  Heaven?" 
Instead  of  giving  a  direct  categorical  answer  He  calls 
a  little  child  unto  Him  and  sets  him  in  the  midst,2 
and  then  leads  up  to  the  truth  that  he  who  seems  to 
be  the  greatest  is  often  the  least,  and  that  the  humblest 
is  nearest  to  the  kingdom  of  Heaven.  "  Who  do  men 
say  that  I  am?"  There  are  many  rumours  current, 
but  they  matter  little.  "Who  do  ye  say  that  I  am?" 
Then  look  at  the  sequel  of  that  pathetic  acted  parable 
recorded  among  the  latest  incidents  in  His  life,  and 
you  will  observe  that  after  girding  Himself  and  washing 
1  Luke  vii.  41.  2  Matthew  xviii.  1. 


Co-operation  of  teacher  and  learner  39 

the  feet  of  His  disciples,  He  turns  to  them  with  the 
personal  appeal,  "  Know  ye  what  I  have  done  unto 
you  ?  " 1  Here  and  often  He  refused  to  be  didactic, 
and  became  conversational  and  interrogative,  challenging 
the  hearer's  attention  and  sympathy  at  every  step  and 
making  him  take  a  substantial  share  in  the  evolution 
of  the  lesson  and  in  the  attainment  of  the  result.  And 
thus  we  have  the  special  sanction  of  the  Master  for  the 
main  principle  of  all  true  pedagogy,  —  a  principle  con- 
stantly enforced,  but  still  daily  overlooked  in  practice,  — 
that  the  measure  of  a  teacher's  success  lies  not  merely  in 
the  amount  of  useful  exhortation  and  truth  which  he  can 
pour  into  the  recipient  mind,  but  in  the  amount  of  effort 
he  has  called  forth  and  in  the  degree  in  which  the 
learner  is  made  master  of  the  process  whereby,  when  his 
teachers  are  withdrawn,  he  may  be  able  to  discover  truth 
for  himself. 

One  other  striking  characteristic  of  the  Gospel  teach-  How  many 
ing  deserves  special  notice.  It  was  our  Lord's  habit,  ™%" 
when  an  enquirer  came  before  Him,  to  begin  by  asking 
him  some  question  with  a  view  to  find  out  what  he 
already  knew.  "  What  shall  I  do  to  inherit  eternal 
life?"  asked  one.  "What  is  written  in  the  Law?  How 
readest  thou?  "  was  the  response.  The  method  of  teach- 
ing is  here  seen  to  correspond  closely  to  that  adopted  in 
His  beneficent  miracles  in  regard  to  the  supply  of  man's 
physical  wants.  Take  for  example  the  story  of  the  feed- 
ing the  four  thousand.  How  vividly  the  scene  comes 
before  us  !  The  hungry  multitude,  the  desert  place,  the 
compassionate  Teacher  who  would  not  have  the  people 
depart  at  once  lest  they  faint  by  the  way,  and  who  pur- 
poses to  work  a  miracle  in  their  behalf.  But  His  first 
question  is,  "  How  many  loaves  have  ye?"  What  have 
1  John  xiii.  14. 


40  Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

you  got  already?  Let  us  use  that  provision  and  make 
the  most  of  it,  and  I  will  then  cause  the  store  to  be 
increased.1  This  is  the  method  of  the  Divine  economy 
in  spiritual  and  intellectual  as  in  material  things.  Before 
adding  to  our  present  resources,  our  Lord  asks  what  they 
amount  to  and  what  use  we  are  making  of  them.  He 
would  not  work  a  miracle  to  provide  that  which  might 
have  been  provided  by  the  exercise  of  ordinary  human 
forethought.  And  I  have  often  been  reminded  of  this 
simple  and  significant  episode  in  the  Gospel  history  when 
it  has  been  my  duty  to  listen  to  lessons  given  by  teachers 
in  their  classes.  Some  of  these  lessons  begin  by  pre- 
supposing the  possession  of  knowledge  which  the  scholars 
have  never  acquired,  and  so  they  merely  bewilder  them, 
and  completely  fail  to  fulfil  their  purpose.  And  others 
begin  by  elaborately  telling  the  class  what  is  already 
known,  and  these  fail  in  their  purpose,  too,  and  may 
easily  alienate  and  dishearten  the  learners.  What  is 
here  needed  is  the  transference  to  the  school-room  of 
the  simple  enquiry  addressed  to  the  disciples  in  the 
desert:  "  How  many  loaves  have  ye?"  A  few  minutes 
may  be  fitly  spent  at  the  beginning  of  every  lesson;  in 
the  preliminary  questions  which  will  serve  to  shew  the 
teacher  in  what  state  the  learner's  mind  already  is, 
what  previous  knowledge  is  actually  possessed  and  re- 
membered, and  how  the  new  knowledge  intended  to  be 
taught  can  best  be  linked  on  to  the  old.  As,  in  all 
charitable  work,  we  do  not  know  how  to  help  a  man, 
we  certainly  cannot  help  him  wisely,  until  we  know 
him,  and  have  found  out  what  he  has  got  already ; 
so  every  teacher  before  he  begins  to  teach  is  bound  to 
discover  and  to  measure    carefully   the   substratum   on 

1  Mark  vi.  38. 


Vision  and  meditation  41 

which  he  has  to  build.  The  neglect  of  this  simple  pre- 
caution often  leads  in  teaching  to  enormous  waste  of 
time. 

Even  the  most  cursory  student  of  the  Bible  cannot  Vision 
fail  to  notice  how  large  a  portion  of  the  teaching  described  ^^0mei 
in  it  takes  the  form  of  visions  and  revelations.  The 
ladder  was  seen  by  Jacob  in  the  wilderness,  with  the 
angels  of  God  ascending  and  descending  on  it,1  and  on 
waking  he  exclaimed,  "  Surely  the  Lord  was  in  this  place 
and  I  knew  it  not,"  and  afterwards  went  on  his  pilgrimage 
with  firmer  resolution  and  surer  hope.  Samuel  and 
Solomon,  too,  were  among  those  who  "  in  clear  dream 
and  solemn  vision  "  heard  things  "  that  no  gross  ear  can 
hear,"  and  received  impressions  which  changed  the  course 
of  their  whole  lives  and  made  them  conscious  of  a  Divine 
call  and  a  new  consecration.  Other  instances  are  to  be 
found  in  the  visions  of  Ezekiel,  the  weird  utterances 
which  came  to  Eliphaz  in  the  time  "  when  deep  sleep 
falleth  on  men,"-  the  great  sheet  let  down  from  heaven 
before  the  startled  eye  of  Peter,3  in  whose  experience 
it  was  needful  that  he  should  henceforth  learn  to  regard 
nothing  as  "  common  or  unclean  "  ;  the  unclosing  of  the 
spiritual  eye  which  was  granted  to  Paul,  "  whether  in 
the  body  or  out  of  the  body"4  he  could  not  tell;  and 
the  ecstatic  vision  which  was  revealed  to  the  aged  seer 
of  Patmos  when  he  beheld  a  "  city  that  had  no  need  of 
the  sun  or  of  the  moon  to  lighten  it,  because  the  glory 
of  God  did  lighten  it,  and  the  Lamb  is  the  light  thereof."1" 
Revelations  in  these  forms  do  not  come  to  you  or  to  me, 
but  we  have  all  had  some  experiences  which  are  closely 
akin  to  them.  There  have  been  moments  in  our  lives, 
and  in  those  of  our  pupils,  when  we  seem  to  be  lifted  up 

1  Genesis  xxviii.  12.  2  Job  iv.  13.  3  Acts  x.  11. 

*  2  Corinthians  xii.  2.  5  Revelation  xxi.  23. 


42    Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

on  to  a  higher  plane  of  thought  and  emotion  than  is 
habitual  to  us ;  when  great  things  seem  greater,  and 
little  things  smaller,  beauty  more  beautiful,  and  evil 
more  hateful  than  ever,  when  we  feel  ourselves  capable 
of  something  better  than  we  are  doing  every  day,  and 
when  the  whole  atmosphere  in  which  we  live  becomes 
suffused  with  a  new  sense  of  the  nobler  possibilities  of  life. 
Such  moments  are  rare,  but  they  come  to  ail  of  us  some- 
times. They  may  be  brought  about  by  reading  a  very 
powerful  or  inspiring  book,  by  some  scene  of  extraordinary 
loveliness,  by  some  domestic  or  public  event  which  stirs 
our  sympathies  profoundly,  or  perhaps  by  that  strong  and 
indefinable  emotion  which  is  produced  by  the  presence 
of  large  numbers,  all  animated. by  one  spirit  and  con- 
trolled by  the  same  overmastering  impulse.  Whatever 
be  the  cause  we  know  well  that  times  of  refreshing  like 
these  are  among  the  best  in  our  lives.  We  would  fain 
prolong  them.  We  feel  as  the  three  disciples  did,  when 
for  a  moment  they  were  favoured  with  a  glimpse  of 
Moses  and  Elias  and  of  the  upper  world.  "  Methinks  it 
is  good  to  be  here."  We  cannot  stay,  however,  but  must 
presently  descend  into  the  arena  of  daily  duty,  perhaps  to 
the  valley  of  humiliation. 

"  Full  soon  thy  soul  shall  have  her  earthly  freight, 
And  custom  lie  upon  thee  with  a  weight 
Heavy  as  frost  and  deep  almost  as  life." 

The  story  of  the  Transfiguration  is  a  parable  revealing 
the  significance  of  those  moments  of  exaltation  which 
come  to  most  of  us  at  some  times  in  our  lives.  The  brief 
and  transient  experience  gives  us  the  true  measure  by  which 
ever  after  we  may  judge  our  powers  and  our  motives. 
It  shews  us  what  our  best  self  is  capable  of  becoming. 
It  leaves  in  us  memories  by  which  all  the  rest  of  our  life 
may  be  brightened  and  ennobled.     Ever  after  when  we 


Dreamy  and  imaginative  scholars  43 

are  tempted  to  be  content  with  a  low  standard  of  duty, 

to  waste  opportunities,  and  to  let  our  faculties  be  '  soiled 

by  ignoble  use,'  those  memories  come  back  to  rebuke  us 

and  to  recall  us  to  the  right  way.     Thus  strong  emotions, 

and  even  the  vague  sense  of  undeveloped  power,  may 

play  an  important  part  in  the  education  of  a  life. 

Is  it  not  true  that  children  who  seem  to  us  a  little  Dreamy 

odd   and   eccentric,  and  who   indulge    in   reveries   anda  .  v"~ 

°  aginative 

fancies,  are    often  among   the    best   scholars  we    have} scholars 

There  was  once  a  family  of  twelve  brothers,  of  whom  nP} i0  be 
J  aiscour- 

eleven    were    rather   hard    and    prosaic,    and    perhaps  aged. 

common-place  men,  who,  when  the  young  brother 
came  among  them,  were  wont  to  greet  him  with  the 
mocking  salutation,  "  Behold,  this  dreamer  cometh." 
The  boy  had  indulged  in  visions  which  they  could  not 
understand ;  had,  in  tending  sheep  in  the  solitary  hills, 
nurtured  great  vague  ambitions  which  differed  essentially 
from  theirs.  Yet  this  dreamer  was  he  who  became  the 
chief  of  his  family,  a  ruler  of  men,  the  saviour  of  his 
father  and  his  brethren.  It  is  ever  thus.  The  deeper 
insight,  the  inspiring  hopes,  the  '  thoughts  that  wander 
through  eternity,'  when  they  are  granted  to  us,  are  great 
and  divine  gifts.  In  the  rare  cases  in  which  we  see 
evidences  of  them  manifested  in  childhood  let  us  wel- 
come them  as  among  the  best  omens,  and  not  discourage 
the  dreamer  because  his  mental  activity  takes  unexpected 
forms,  and  because  he  seems  less  amenable  to  ordinary 
routine  discipline  than  his  fellows. 

Here  then  is  a  hint  for  us,  of  the  value  of  genuine 
appeal  to  the  feelings  in  dealing  with  children.  All  great 
emotion,  provided  only  that  it  be  unselfish,  does  some- 
thing to  purify  and  ennoble  character.  Incidents  occur 
in  a  child's  life  which  help  to  kindle  such  emotion  —  the 
thrill  of  a  solemn  music,  the  first    glimpse  of   the  sea, 


44   Methods  of  Instruction  as  illustrated  in  the  Bible 

thanksgiving  at  a  jubilee  or  for  some  great  national 
blessing,  the  sympathy  evoked  on  the  occasion  of  some 
great  social  misfortune  or  public  loss.  A  good  teacher 
is  ever  on  the  watch  for  incidents  of  this  kind  in  the 
public  life  of  the  nation,  or  in  local  events,  or  in  the 
history  of  the  school  itself,  such  as  may  serve  to  rouse 
the  apathetic  to  enthusiasm,  or  make  one  who  generally 
cares  for  material  pleasures  only,  forget  himself  for  a 
time  at  least.  The  teacher  who  looks  into  his  own  life 
knows  well  that  he  has  become  what  he  is,  not  only  in 
virtue  of  what  he  knows  and  can  do,  but  of  what  he  has 
felt,  and  of  what  he  has  striven  for  and  imagined  in  his 
best  moments.  In  the  teacher's  profession  it  is  truer 
than  perhaps  in  any  other  that  the  sum  of  human  duty 
is  to  aim  high  and  to  work  hard.  Without  hard  work  all 
great  aims  are  apt  to  become  futile  and  to  evaporate  in 
mere  sentiment.  But  without  a  high  aim,  and  a  noble 
ideal  of  what  is  possible  both  in  ourselves  and  in  our 
pupils,  mere  hard  work  is  the  purest  drudgery,  and  will 
inevitably  degenerate  ere  long  into  a  barren  and  joyless 
routine. 
Condu-  Thus  we  have  had  before  us  some  of  the  more  prom- 

inent methods  by  which  truth  has  been  enforced  and  char- 
acter shaped  by  the  Bible  writers.  They  are  (i)  symbol 
and  ritual,  (2)  direct  injunction,  (3)  appeals  to  the  intui- 
tions of  conscience,  (4)  iteration  and  reiteration,  (5)  prov- 
erbs, (6)  biography  and  example,  (7)  story,  figure  and 
parable,  (8)  poetry,  (9)  searching  questions,  and  lastly 
(10)  vision  and  inspiration.  These  methods  are  not  all 
equally  applicable  at  all  times,  or  to  all  learners,  or  to  the 
same  people  at  every  stage  in  their  mental  and  spiritual 
development.  But  all  of  them  have  been  employed  by 
our  Divine  teacher  from  time  to  time  in  the  education  of 
the    race,  and  every  one   of  them  is    suggestive    to   us 


si  otis. 


Practical  conclusions  45 

of  processes  which  we  may  in  some  degree  imitate. 
We  may  at  least  infer  from  this  review  of  the  chief 
characteristics  of  Bible  teaching  that  the  ways  of  access 
to  the  human  conscience  and  understanding  are  many 
and  varied ;  that  they  have  not  all  been  found  out  yet ; 
that  new  modes  of  adapting  former  methods  to  meet 
modern  needs  have  yet  to  be  discovered,  and  that  it  is 
the  duty  of  every  good  teacher  to  take  at  least  a  share 
in  making  such  discoveries  for  himself. 


LECTURE    II 

SOCRATES   AND    HIS   METHOD   OF 
TEACHING 

State  of  Athens  in  the  time  of  Socrates.  The  intellectual  discipline 
of  the  Athenians.  The  art  of  Oratory.  Socrates  and  his  con- 
versations. His  disciples  and  reporters.  A  Socratic  dialogue. 
Negative  results  not  necessarily  fruitless.  Investigation  of 
words  and  their  meanings.  Some  methods  more  fitting  for 
adults  than  for  young  learners.  Ambiguity  and  verbal  confu- 
sion. Gorgias.  Relation  of  virtue  to  knowledge.  The  8a.ifj.uv 
of  Socrates.  Oracles.  Conversation  an  educational  instru- 
ment. Need  for  occasional  colloquies  with  elder  scholars. 
Subjects  suited  for  such  colloquies.  Handicraft.  Physical 
Science.  The  doctrine  of  reminiscence.  Pre-natal  existence. 
Socrates  a  preacher  of  righteousness.  The  accusation  against 
him.     His  death. 

We  may  profitably  devote  our  time  to-day  to  the 
consideration  of  the  life  and  influence  of  the  most  illus- 
trious of  the  Greek  teachers.  Socrates'  name  is  identified 
with  some  of  the  earliest  dialectical  exercises  on  record, 
and  the  arts  of  evolving  and  imparting  truth  and  of 
establishing  a  right  relation  between  learner  and  teacher 
were  the  arts  to  which  he  devoted  his  chief  attention. 
These  too  are  the  arts  which  most  of  my  hearers  desire 
to  acquire  for  themselves,  and  to  communicate  to  others, 
and  although  our  circumstances,  after  the  lapse  of  cen- 
turies, differ  much  from  those  in  which  he  lived,  it  will 
be    found    on    examination    that    there    is    a    substantial 

46 


Athens  in  the  Socratic  age  47 

resemblance  between  the  problems  with  which  he  was 
confronted  and  some  of  those  which  we  in  this  age  are 
trying  to  solve. 

At  the  risk  of  recounting  some  things  which  are  State  of 
already  very  familiar  to  most  of  my  audience,  it  may  '/ftnf  ln ', 
not  be  unfitting  to  remind  you  of  one  or  two  facts  Socrates. 
respecting  the  condition  of  Athens  in  the  fourth  and 
fifth  centuries  before  Christ.  The  state,  of  which  it 
formed  the  capital,  was  little  larger  than  a  moderate 
English  county,  and  the  whole  of  its  subject  territories 
were  not  equal  in  area  to  Great  Britain.  In  the  time 
of  Pericles,  however,  it  was  the  most  influential  city  in 
the  world.  Its  outward  aspect  was,  as  you  know,  very 
remarkable.  The  houses  of  the  private  citizens  were, 
for  the  most  part,  plain  wooden  tenements,  in  striking 
contrast  to  all  the  buildings  associated  with  the  public 
life  of  the  state ;  for  these  were  costly  and  magnificent. 
Near  was  a  fair  harbour,  teeming  with  commercial  life ; 
and  down  the  slope,  leading  to  the  Piraeus,  were  two 
sturdy  parallel  walls,  which  secured  access  to  the  sea  in 
time  of  war,  and  which,  as  they  betokened  the  prudence 
of  the  citizens,  had  also  borne  witness  to  their  prowess 
in  many  a  conflict.  And  towering  high  above  the  city, 
overlooking  the  common  paths  and  homes  of  men, 
stood  the  sacred  citadel,  the  dwelling  of  the  gods. 
There  was  the  Parthenon,  dedicated  to  the  virgin  god- 
dess Athene,  whose  name  the  city  bore ;  and  near  it 
were  the  temples  of  Jupiter  Olympus,  of  Theseus,  and 
Apollo  —  buildings  splendid  even  in  ruins,  but  then  all 
fresh  and  perfect,  overlaid  with  gilding  and  bright  colour. 
Yet,  2,300  years  ago,  the  stranger  who  had  sailed  from 
Tyre  or  from  Syracuse,  to  see  the  city,  would  not  have 
gathered  from  all  these  outward  signs  of  prosperity  a 
true  conception  of  the  power  of  Athens,  or  have  under- 


48  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 

stood  why  she  dominated  the  world.  The  greatness 
of  Athens  lay  in  the  character  of  her  people,  in  her 
freedom,  and  in  the  way  in  which  she  maintained  it, 
in  her  mental  activity,  and  in  that  desire  for  new 
knowledge  which,  long  afterwards,  so  impressed  St  Paul 
when  he  addressed  the  people .  from  Mars'  Hill.  You 
remember  how  much  struck  the  Apostle  was  as  he 
walked  through  the  city  or  stood  on  the  Acropolis,  and 
saw  around  him  so  many  signs  of  restlessness  and  of 
intellectual  activity  and  enterprise.  The  people,  St  Luke 
tells  us,  "  spent  their  time  in  nothing  else  but  either  to 
tell  or  to  hear  some  new  thing."  1  That  did  not  mean 
news  in  our  sense  of  the  word,  news  from  a  far  country, 
the  story  of  a  great  discovery  or  new  fact.  It  meant  a 
new  truth  or  speculation,  some  fresh  or  original  opinion 
about  government,  about  the  duties  of  citizens,  the  rights 
of  subject  states,  or  the  proper  use  of  human  faculties  in 
the  family  and  in  the  State. 

Athens  had,  at  the  time  of  Socrates,  lately  succeeded 
in  baffling  the  counsels  and  dispersing  the  host  of  the 
King  of  Persia.  With  the  little  band  of  confederated 
Greek  patriots,  she  had  resisted  an  army  twenty  times 
the  size  of  her  own.  The  names  of  Plataea  and  Salamis 
were  keenly  remembered  by  the  Greeks ;  and  the 
tactics  of  Marathon  and  Thermopylae  were  often  can- 
vassed by  them.  Indeed,  every  matter  of  public  con- 
cern was  freely  discussed.  It  is  true  the  people  had 
no  press,  either  to  furnish  them  with  materials  for 
forming  their  opinions,  or  to  save  them  that  trouble  by 
presenting  them  with  opinions  already  formulated.  All 
discussion  was  oral ;  not  only  in  the  legitimate  popular 
assemblies,  but  in  the  market-place,  in  the  forum,  and 
under  the  porticoes  of  temples,  groups  of  eager  dis- 
1  Acts  xvii.  21. 


Tlie  intellectual  discipline  of  the  Athenians     49 

putants  might  be  seen  anxiously  investigating  some 
difficult  problem  in  morals  or  politics.  Every  act  of 
the  governing  body,  every  detail  of  administration, 
every  judicial  decision,  became,  in  turn,  the  subject  of 
open  public  disputation.  And  the  Athenians  prided 
themselves  on  doing  everything  with  their  eyes  open, 
and  on  being  able  to  give  a  reason,  not  only  for  the 
acts  of  themselves  and  their  party,  but  also  for  all  the 
public  policy  of  their  beloved  State.  A  man  who  had 
not  an  opinion  on  these  matters,  or  who  could  not  defend 
it,  was  considered  to  be  a  discredit  to  the  community. 
"We  are  the  only  people,"  said  Pericles,  in  one  of  his 
impassioned  orations  to  the  citizens  at  the  funeral  of 
some  heroes  who  had  died  in  a  conflict, 

"  We  are  the  only  people  who  regard  him  that  does  not  meddle 
in  State  affairs  as  good  for  nothing.  Yet,  methinks,  we  pass  sound 
judgments  and  are  quick  in  catching  the  right  apprehension  of 
things,  and  we  think  that  words  are  not  prejudicial  to  action,  hut 
rather  the  not  being  prepared  by  previous  debate  before  we  proceed 
to  action.  Herein  lies  the  true  excellence  of  our  people,  that  in  the 
hour  of  action  we  can  shew  great  courage,  and  yet  we  debate  before- 
hand the  expediency  of  our  measures.  The  courage  of  other 
nations  may  be  the  result  of  ignorance  or  blind  impulse;  delibera- 
tion makes  them  cowards.  But  those,  undoubtedly,  must  be 
deemed  to  have  the  greatest  souls  who,  being  most  acutely  sensible 
of  the  miseries  of  war  and  the  sweets  of  peace,  are  not  hence  in  the 
least  deterred  from  facing  danger.  *  *  This  whole  earth  is  the 
grave  of  illustrious  men;  but,  of  all  those  who  are  buried  in  it.  there 
are  none  nobler  than  those  whom  we  commit  to  the  ground  to  day, 
for  they  are  the  intelligent  citizens  of  a  free  State." 

The    sort   of    mental    discipline    through    which    an  The  intel- 
Athenian  citizen  passed,  differed  very  much    from  that    ffl'f 

r  '  J  (inline  oj 

with  which  we  are  familiar  in   the    nineteenth  century,  the  A  then- 
He  could  not  read  or  write,  but  he  could  listen  to  the  lam' 
harangues  of   the  orator,  or  join  a  group   of   enquirers 
who    surrounded    a    philosopher    pacing    the    groves    of 

E 


5<3  Socrates  and  Ids  method  of  teacJiing 

Academus.  He  saw  the  plays  of  Sophocles  and  Aristo- 
phanes, of  which  representations  were  often  gratuitously 
provided  by  rich  citizens,  as  an  honourable  public  duty, 
and  as  a  contribution  to  national  education.  "  He  walked 
amidst  the  friezes  of  Phidias  and  the  paintings  of  Zeuxis  ; 
he  heard  the  rhapsodist  at  the  street  corner  declaiming 
about  the  heroism  of  Hector  or  the  wanderings  of  the 
much-enduring  Ulysses.  He  was  a  legislator,  conversant 
with  high  questions  of  international  right  and  of  public 
revenue ;  he  was  a  soldier,  carefully  trained  by  the  State 
under  a  severe  but  generous  discipline  ;  he  was  a  judge, 
compelled  often  to  weigh  hostile  evidence,  and  to  decide 
complex  questions  of  right  and  wrong.  These  things 
were  themselves  an  education,  well  fitted,  if  not  to  form 
exact  or  profound  thinkers,  at  least  to  give  quickness  to 
the  perceptions,  delicacy  to  the  taste,  fluency  to  the  ex- 
pression, and  politeness  to  the  manners."  l  An  Athenian 
knew  that  his  beloved  city  was  dedicated  to  Athene,  the 
goddess  of  Wisdom,  and  he  wished  to  make  the  citizens 
worthy  of  this  distinction.  Hence,  to  many  of  the  people, 
philosophy  was  a  pastime,  and  the  search  after  wisdom 
one  of  the  main  duties  of  life.  And,  as  some  men  would 
go  to  a  bath  or  a  gymnasium  to  brace  up  their  physical 
energies,  others  would  resort  to  the  rhetor  or  the  sophist 
to  gather  strength  for  intellectual  contests,  and  to  practise 
in  the  porch  or  the  agora  the  "  noble  art  of  self-defence." 
The  art  of  And  here  it  may  not  be  unfitting  to  reflect  for  a 
oiatory.  moment  on  the  fact  that  23  centuries  have  not,  in  this 
one  respect,  witnessed  the  improvement  which  we  may 
hope  has  been  visible  in  other  departments  of  instruc- 
tion. Education  in  citizenship,  training  in  the  art  of 
forming  and  expressing  opinions  on  matters  of  high 
public   interest,  the   discipline   which    helps   a   man   to 

1  Macaulay,  Essay  on  Boswell's  Johnson. 


Socrates  and  his  conversations  5  1 

explain,  and,  if  needful,  to  maintain  and  defend  the 
opinions  he  is  supposed  to  hold  —  where  is  our  pro- 
vision for  attaining  these  objects?  Where  are  the 
teachers,  who,  not  content  with  making  their  pupils 
receivers  of  truth,  help  them  also  to  elucidate  it,  and 
to  enforce  it  upon  others?  I  think  that  from  Athens 
we  have  still,  in  this  one  respect,  something  to  learn. 

It  was   in   the   midst  of  this    busy,  prosperous,  and  Socrates  ^ 

inquisitive   community  that  you  might   have   seen,  hada;"//m 
1  J  J  °  conversa- 

you  lived  about  400  B.C.,  a  short,  thick-set,  and  some-  tions. 
what  ugly  man,  going  about  from  one  part  of  the  city  to 
another,  entering  into  conversation  with  persons  of  all 
ranks,  and  apparently  very  anxious  to  extend  the  circle 
of  his  acquaintance.  Yet  he  was  no  stranger  to  the 
people  of  Athens.  They  knew  him  well.  He  had  been 
brought  up  among  them.  His  father  had  been  a  sculptor 
of  no  great  repute  or  wealth,  but  of  good  and  honourable 
lineage.  He  himself  had  served  in  early  life  as  a  soldier 
with  some  credit,  and  had  subsequently  filled  several  of 
those  posts  in  which  the  Athenian  constitution,  like  our 
own,  gave,  even  to  undistinguished  citizens,  opportunities 
of  rendering  service  to  the  State.  He  lived  a  blameless 
and  somewhat  uneventful  life,  and  attracted  little  public 
notice  until  about  the  age  of  40.  But  about  this  time 
he  began  to  be  remarked  for  the  frequency  and  earnest- 
ness of  the  conversations  which  he  held  with  the  leading 
people  of  Athens.  Wherever  a  public  disputation  was 
going  on,  wherever  any  rhetor  was  discoursing  to  a  group 
of  hearers,  this  rugged,  meanly  clad  man  would  be  seen 
attentively  listening.  In  a  modest  and  respectful  way, 
he  would  venture  to  put  a  question  to  the  orator  on  the 
subject  of  his  harangue.  An  answer  would  generally  be 
given  off-hand.  On  this  Socrates  would  found  another 
question ;    and,    as    he   very   carefully    remembered    the 


52  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 

several  answers,  fastened  mercilessly  on  any  inconsistency 
between  one  answer  and  another,  and  would  permit  no 
deviation  from  the  matter  in  hand  ;  he  would  often  embar- 
rass the  speaker  very  much,  and  make  it  appear  that  he 
was  talking  about  something  which  he  did  not  under- 
stand. Throughout  he  assumed  the  rather  provoking 
attitude  of  a  mere  enquirer,  never  that  of  one  who  had  a 
theory  of  his  own  to  propound.  Close,  searching  inter- 
rogation was  his  chief  employment,  and  if  the  result  was 
unsatisfactory  he  seemed  surprised  and  disappointed,  as 
one  who  had  expected  information  and  guidance  he 
could  not  obtain.  For  Socrates  was  possessed  with  the 
conviction  that  there  is  a  great  deal  of  unreal  and  pre- 
tentious knowledge  in  the  world.  He  thought  that, 
down  at  the  root  of  even  the  most  familiar  subjects  that 
men  discuss,  there  lie  difficulties  which  are  scarcely 
suspected.  He  believed  that  men  come  to  false  conclu- 
sions, not  because  they  reason  badly  or  dishonestly,  but 
because  their  premisses  are  wrong ;  because,  at  the  very 
outset  of  their  argument,  they  have  assumed  as  true  some 
data  which  they  have  never  sufficiently  examined.  He 
thought  that,  before  any  one  could  attain  a  high  standard 
of  intellectual  excellence,  he  had  much  to  unlearn ;  and 
that  it  was  necessary  for  him  to  clear  his  mind,  not 
merely  of  falsehood  or  error,  but  of  beliefs  which,  though 
they  might  appear  self-evident,  were  unsupported  and 
unverified.  We  err,  he  said,  by  not  taking  the  true 
measure  of  ourselves  and  of  our  own  ignorance;  and, 
until  we  have  tried  to  do  this,  we  are  not  in  a  condition 
to  receive  new  knowledge  in  a  right  spirit,  or  to  turn  it  to 
profitable  account.  He  did  not  think  that  men  wilfully 
deceived  one  another,  but  rather  that  unconsciously  they 
deceived  themselves.  Hence,  he  regarded  it  as  the  first 
business  of  a  philosopher  to  convey  to  the  learner,  by 


His  disciples  and  reporters  53 

some  process,  however  painful,  a  true  estimate  of  the 

value  and  extent  of  his  own  knowledge. 

We  are  to  remember  that  he  wrote  no  book,  and  that  His  disci- 

all   our  knowledge  of  him   is  gained  from   the   records  ^  eJ  "'' 
°  °  reporters. 

furnished  by  his  affectionate  disciples  Plato  and  Xeno- 
phon.  Herein  we  are  reminded  of  the  greatest  of  all 
teachers,  who  is  known  to  us  not  by  any  writings  of  His 
own,  but  by  His  acts  and  discourses  as  they  have  been 
handed  down  to  us  by  those  who  received  His  teaching. 
And  the  parallel  is  remarkable  in  other  ways.  Three  of 
the  Evangelists  give  to  us  plain  matter-of-fact  narratives 
of  what  they  saw  and  heard.  It  is  true  we  may  trace  in 
Matthew  a  desire  to  make  the  mission  of  his  Lord  intel- 
ligible and  acceptable  to  the  Jews,  and  in  Luke,  who 
wrote  under  the  guidance  of  Paul,  a  wish  to  edify  Gentile 
converts.  But  in  the  three  synoptic  Gospels  there  is 
straightforward  narrative,  biography,  reports  of  conversa- 
tions and  discourses,  but  little  or  no  reflection  or  theory. 
In  the  fourth  Gospel  you  have  an  utterance  of  another 
kind.  The  writer  of  St  John's  Gospel  is  essentially  a 
Platonist.  He  sees  the  whole  of  the  facts  of  the  Saviour's 
life  through  the  medium  of  the  large  spiritual  truths 
which  seem  to  him  of  paramount  importance.  He  lays 
down,  in  the  first  words  of  his  book,  his  theory  of  the 
inner  relationship  of  the  Father,  the  Word,  and  the 
human  soul ;  and  throughout  his  narrative,  particularly  in 
the  long  discourses  between  the  Great  Teacher  and  His 
disciples,  he  accentuates  this  theory,  and  keeps  steadily 
in  view  the  ideal  of  spiritual  union,  of  supernatural 
agency,  and  Divine  influence.  It  is  thus  also  with  Plato. 
He  is  an  idealist.  He  sees  all  truth  of  mere  fact,  in  the 
light  of  what  he  conceives  to  be  the  larger  truths  of 
philosophy.  He  looks  on  human  and  social  life  as 
having  its  own  ideal  and   purpose,  no  less  than   each 


54  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 

profession  or  craft.  His  views  on  the  ultimate  ground 
of  all  ethics  in  science  or  reasoned  truth  and  on  the 
doctrine  of  reminiscence  are  constantly  illustrated  in  the 
Socratic  dialogues,  as  he  presents  them.  But  to  Xeno- 
phon,  a  soldier  rather  than  a  philosopher,  a  man  of 
business  and  of  robust  common  sense,  the  dialectic  of 
Socrates  was  chiefly  valuable  because  of  the  light  it 
threw  on  the  practical  problems  of  life.  He  was  con- 
cerned to  hear  it  so  often  said  of  his  revered  master, 
that  his  teaching  ended  in  mere  doubt  and  negation. 
He  desired  to  vindicate  Socrates  from  such  a  charge,  and 
to  shew  that,  after  all  his  searching  questions,  he  ceased 
to  embarrass  his  hearer,  and  gave  him,  by  way  of  con- 
clusion, counsels  of  a  practical  and  useful  character. 
And  all  through  the  Platonic  and  Xenophontic  repre- 
sentations, as  between  the  narratives  of  Matthew  and  of 
John,  and  even  in  the  two  accounts  of  the  Apology  before 
the  judges,  you  will  find  the  same  diversity,  —  the  one 
dwelling  rather  on  the  negative  and  speculative  side, 
the  other  on  the  practical  and  positive  side  of  the 
master's  teaching;  both  representations  being  in  a. sense 
fundamentally  true,  but  both  coloured  by  the  intellectual 
medium  through  which  the  disciple  recognized  the  truth. 
A  Socratic  Here,  for  example,  is  a  fragment  from  one  of  Xeno- 
dialogue.  phon>s  dialogues,  in  which  you  will  observe  that  the 
moral  aim  and  purpose  of  the  Socratic  dialectic  is  kept 
prominently  in  view,  and  in  which  the  reporter  of  the 
conversation  is  chiefly  concerned  to  vindicate  his  master 
against  the  charge  so  often  made  against  him  of  corrupt- 
ing the  Athenian  youth.  It  is  an  account  of  a  conversa- 
tion with  Glauco,  the  son  of  Aristo,  who  was  so  strongly 
possessed  with  the  desire  of  governing  the  republic,  that 

"  Although  not  yet  twenty  he  was  continually  making  orations 
to  the  people;    neither  was  it  in  the  power  of  his  relations,  however 


A  Socratic  dialogue  55 

numerous,  to  prevent  his  exposing  himself  to  ridicule.  Socrates, 
who  loved  him  on  the  account  of  Plato  and  Charmidas,  had  alone 
the  art  to  succeed  with  him.  For,  meeting  him,  he  said,  '  Your 
design  then,  my  Glauco,  is  to  be  at  the  very  head  of  our  republic? ' 
'  It  is  so,'  replied  the  other. 

"  '  Believe  me,'  said  Socrates,  '  a  noble  aim  !  For,  this  once  ac- 
complished, you  become,  as  it  were,  absolute  ;  you  may  then  serve 
your  friends,  aggrandize  your  family,  extend  the  limits  of  your 
country,  and  make  yourself  renowned,  not  only  in  Athens,  but 
throughout  all  Greece  ;  nay,  it  may  be,  your  fame  will  spread 
abroad  among  the  most  barbarous  nations,  like  another  Themistocles, 
while  admiration  and  applause  attend  wherever  you  go  ! ' 

"  Socrates,  having  thus  fired  the  imagination  of  the  young  man, 
and  secured  himself  a  favourable  hearing,  went  on,  —  '  But,  if  your 
design  is  to  receive  honour  from  your  country,  you  intend  to  be  of 
use  to  it,  for  nothing  but  that  can  secure  its  applause  ?  '  '  Undoubt- 
edly,' replied  Glauco.  'Tell  me,  then,  I  entreat  you,  what  may  be 
the  first  service  you  intend  to  render  the  republic  ? ' 

"  Glauco  remained  silent,  as  not  knowing  what  to  answer.  '  I 
suppose,'  said  Socrates,  'you  mean  to  enrich  it  ?  for  that  is  generally 
the  method  we  take,  when  we  intend  to  aggrandize  the  family  of 
some  friend.'  'This  is  indeed  my  design,'  returned  the  other. 
'  But  the  way  to  do  this,'  said  Socrates,  '  is  to  increase  its  revenues.' 
'It  is  so.'  'Tell  me  then,  I  pray  you,  whence  the  revenues  of  the 
republic  arise,  and  what  they  annually  amount  to;  since  I  doubt 
not  of  your  having  diligently  enquired  into  each  particular,  so  as  to 
be  able  to  supply  every  deficiency,  and,  when  one  source  fails,  can 
easily  have  recourse  to  some  other.' 

"  '  I  protest  to  you,'  said  Glauco, '  this  is  a  point  I  never  considered.' 
'  Tell  me,  then,  only  its  annual  expenses;  for  I  suppose  you  intend  to  re- 
trench whatever  appears  superfluous?'  '  I  cannot  say,'  replied  Glauco, 
'  that  I  have  yet  thought  of  this  affair  any  more  than  of  the  other.' 

'"  We  must  postpone,  then,  our  design  of  enriching  the  republic 
to  another  time,'  said  Socrates,  'for  I  see  not  how  a  person  can 
exert  his  endeavours  to  any  purpose,  so  long  as  he  continues 
ignorant  both  of  its  income  and  expenses.'  '  Yet  a  State  may  be  en- 
riched by  the  spoils  of  its  enemies.'  '  Assuredly,'  replied  Socrates, 
'but,  in  order  to  do  this,  its  strength  should  be  superior,  otherwise 
it  may  be  in  danger  of  losing  what  it  hath  already.  lie,  therefore, 
who  advises  war,  ought  to  be  well  acquainted  not  only  with  the  forces 
of  his  own  country,  but  those  of  the  enemy;   to  the  end  that,  if  he 


56  Socrates  and  his  mctJiod  of  teaching 

finds  superiority  on  his  side,  he  may  boldly  persist  in  his  first 
opinion,  or  recede  in  time  and  dissuade  the  people  from  the 
hazardous  undertaking.'  '  It  is  very  true,'  returned  the  other. 
'I  pray  you,  then,  tell  me  what  are  our  forces  by  sea  and  land; 
and  what  are  the  enemy's?'  '  In  truth,  Socrates,  I  cannoj  pretend 
to  tell  you,  at  once,  either  one  or  the  other.'  '  Possibly  you  may 
have  a  list  of  them  in  writing?  If  so,  I  should  attend  to  your 
reading  it  with  pleasure.'  'No,  nor  this,'  replied  Glauco,  'fori 
have  not  yet  begun  to  make  any  calculation  of  the  matter.'  '  I  per- 
ceive, then,'  said  Socrates,  '  we  shall  not  make  war  in  a  short  time; 
since  an  affair  of  such  moment  cannot  be  duly  considered  at  the 
beginning  of  your  administration.  But  I  take  it  for  granted,'  con- 
tinued he,  '  that  you  have  carefully  attended  to  the  guarding  our 
coasts;  and  know  where  it  is  necessary  to  place  garrisons,  and  what 
the  number  of  soldiers  to  be  employed  for  each;  that,  while  you  are 
diligent  to  keep  those  complete  which  are  of  service  to  us,  you  may 
order  such  to  be  withdrawn  as  appear  superfluous.' 

'"  It  is  my  opinion,' replied  Glauco, 'that  every  one  of  them  should 
be  taken  away,  since  they  only  ravage  the  country  they  were  appointed 
to  defend.'  '  But  what  are  we  to  do,  then,'  said  Socrates,  '  if  our 
garrisons  are  taken  away?  How  shall  we  prevent  the  enemy  from 
overrunning  Attica  at  pleasure?  And  who  gave  you  this  intelligence, 
that  our  guards  discharge  their  duty  in  such  a  manner?  Have  you 
been  among  them?  '  'No,  but  I  much  suspect  it.'  '  As  soon,  then,' 
said  Socrates,  '  as  we  can  be  thoroughly  informed  of  the  matter, 
and  have  not  to  proceed  on  conjecture  only,  we  will  speak  of  it  to 
the  Senate.'  '  Perhaps,'  replied  Glauco,  '  this  may  be  the  best  way.' 
'  I  can  scarcely  suppose,'  continued  Socrates, '  that  you  have  visited 
our  silver  mines  so  frequently  as  to  assign  the  cause  why  they  have 
fallen  off  so  much  of  late  from  their  once  flourishing  condition?' 
'  I  have  not  been  at  all  there,'  answered  Glauco. . . ." 

After  many  other  questions  had  brought  out  clearly 
the  need  of  more  accurate,  practical  knowledge  as  the 
equipment  of  a  statesman,  Socrates  concludes  :  — 

"If,  therefore,  you  desire  to  be  admired  and  esteemed  by  your 
country  beyond  all  others,  you  must  exceed  all  others  in  the  know- 
ledge of  those  things  which  you  are  ambitious  of  undertaking;  and, 
thus  qualified,  I  shall  not  scruple  to  insure  your  success,  whenever 
you  may  think  proper  to  preside  over  the  Commonwealth." 


Negative  results  57 


"The  school  of  a  philosopher,"  says  Epictetus,  "is  ^.Negative 
surgery.  You  do  not  come  to  it  for  pleasure,  but  for  necesSarily 
pain.  If  one  of  you  brings  me  a  dislocated  shoulder,  fruitless. 
and  another  divers  disorders,  shall  I  sit  uttering  trifling 
exclamations  and  let  you  go  away  as  you  came?"  You 
observe  that  Socrates'  method  of  interrogation  was  often 
of  a  humbling  and  painful  kind;  it  forced  home  to  his 
collocutor  the  very  unwelcome  conviction  that  he  was 
more  ignorant  than  he  supposed.  There  are  three  stages 
in  the  intellectual  history  of  a  man  in  relation  to  the 
knowledge  of  any  subject.  The  first,  and  lowest,  is 
unconscious,  satisfied  ignorance.  The  next  stage  is  one 
of  ignorance  too,  but  of  ignorance  unmasked,  awakened 
and  ashamed  of  itself.  The  third,  and  highest,  is  that 
which  follows  the  possession  of  clear  and  reasoned  truth. 
But  the  second  condition  is  necessary  to  the  last.  We 
cannot  vault  out  of  ignorance  into  wisdom  at  one  bound, 
we  must  travel  slowly  and  toilsomely  along  the  intermedi- 
ate steps ;  and  Socrates  thought  he  did  a  service  to  an 
enquirer  if  he  could  only  succeed  in  helping  him  to  reach 
the  second  step,  and  so  to  be  fairly  on  the  right  road. 

A  very  significant  feature  of  his  teaching  was   the  The  inves- 
great  importance  he  attached  to  the  right  and  accurate  JJor™ald 
use  of  words.     Many  of  the  dialogues  which  Plato  ha&their 
recorded  for  us  turn  almost  wholly  on  the  definition  of  "' 
some  word  or  phrase.     Few  of  us  know,  until  we  try, 
how  hard  it  is  to  give  a  concise  and  perfect  definition  of 
even  the  most  familiar  word,  and  how  much  harder  it  is 
to  make  sure  that  we  always  attach  precisely  the  same 
meaning  to  it.     Now  Socrates  thought  that  an  examina- 
tion of  these  difficulties  would  be  of  great  use  to  people 
generally,  and  to  disputants  in  particular.     So  he  would 
take  a  man  who  either  in  his  business  or  in  his  argumen- 
tation was   in  the  habit  of  employing  some   particular 


58  Socrates  and  Jiis  method  of  teaching 

term.  He  would  gently  ask  him  to  define  that  term. 
Whatever  answer  was  given  he  would  quietly  accept  and 
repeat.  He  would  then  propose  a  question  or  two, 
intended  to  illustrate  the  different  senses  in  which  the 
word  might  be  applied  ;  and,  in  doing  this,  would  make 
it  evident,  either  that  the  definition  was  too  wide  and 
needed  to  be  restricted  a  little,  or  that  it  was  too  narrow 
and  did  not  comprehend  enough.  The  respondent 
would  then  ask  leave  to  retract  his  former  definition, 
and  to  amend  it.  When  this  was  done,  the  inexorable 
questioner  would  go  on  cross-examining  on  the  subject, 
applying  the  amended  definition  to  new  cases,  until 
answers  were  given  inconsistent  with  each  other  and 
with  the  previous  reply.  And,  at  the  end  of  this  pitiless 
cross-examination,  it  would  often  appear  that  the  respon- 
dent, after  vain  efforts  to  extricate  himself,  admitted  that 
he  could  give  no  satisfactory  answer  to  the  demand 
which  at  first  had  appeared  so  simple. 

And  I  am  sure  that  we,  as  teachers,  have  a  special 
interest  in  that  part  of  the  Socratic  teaching  which  bore 
upon  the  exact  connotation  and  the  right  use  of  words. 
Grammar,  verbal  and  logical  analysis,  rhetoric,  style  —  all 
these  things  will  still,  notwithstanding  the  occasional 
satire  and  remonstrances  of  the  modern  professors  of 
science,  hold  their  own  as  among  the  chief  instruments 
in  the  training  of  a  human  being  or  an  active  and  a 
thoughtful  life.  And  why?  —  Because  a  copious  vocabu- 
lary is  a  storehouse  of  thoughts.  Because,  whatever  we 
are  hereafter  to  learn,  whether  about  History,  Politics, 
Astronomy,  or  Physics,  must,  to  a  large  extent,  be 
learned  from  books ;  and  because  whatever  gives  us 
greater  command  of  the  language  of  books,  and  a  more 
exact  conception  of  the  significance  of  that  language, 
enlarges  our  resources  as  thinking  beings. 


Meanings  of  words  59 

Yet  the  philosopher's  method  of  pursuing  a  general  Some 

term  into  all  its  hiding-places,  of  amending,  expanding,  m      jA 
0  r  °'       l  °'  more  fit- 

and  contracting  a  definition,  until  it  fitted  exactly  the  ting  for 
qualities  of  the  thing  defined  was  —  though  useful  a.s'^"//s 
a  method  of  confutation  with  grave  men,  especially  with  young 
superficial  pretenders  —  not  a  model  for  us  to  imitate  ha- learneri 
bitually  in  a  school.  Nor  is  the  Socratic  dpwvda  a  lawful 
expedient  for  use  in  teaching  young  learners.  Thev  do 
not  need  to  have  their  ignorance  exposed.  We  do  not 
help  them  by  plying  them  with  questions  and  humbling 
them  with  a  sense  of  their  own  inferiority  to  ourselves. 
Occasionally,  I  have  no  doubt,  it  is  useful  to  take  a  lesson 
on  a  single  word,  —  I  will  say,  constitution,  virtue,  experience, 
proof,  /aw,  influence,  —  trace  it  through  all  the  stages  of  its 
development,  and  the  shades  of  its  meaning ;  and  then 
ask  the  scholar  himself,  after  this  inductive  exercise,  to 
define  the  word,  and  to  take  care  that  the  definition  shall 
cover  all  its  legitimate  applications.  We  want,  of  course, 
that  our  scholars  shall  know  the  meaning  of  the  words 
they  use.  But  the  meaning  of  a  word  as  learned  by  heart 
from  a  dictionary  or  a  spelling-book  is  of  no  value.  It 
is,  indeed,  owing  to  its  necessary  brevity,  often  worse 
than  useless.  The  true  way  to  teach  young  learners 
the  significance  of  a  word  is,  after  a  brief  explanation, 
to  tell  them  to  take  the  word  and  use  it.  "  Write  four 
or  five  sentences  containing  the  word."  "  Give  a  short 
narrative  in  which  this  word  shall  be  used  three  times  in 
different  senses."  Or,  "Take  these  two  words,  which  are 
apparently  synonymous,  and  employ  them  in  such  a  way 
as  to  show  that  you  see  the  less  obvious  distinctions  in 
their  meaning."  The  object  aimed  at  by  the  Socratic 
elenchus  among  grown-up  controversialists  may  be  at- 
tained, among  young  scholars,  by  this  simpler  and  less 
irritating  process. 


6o  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 


Ambiguity        But,  to  the  philosopher,  the  duty  of  looking  straight 

and  verba ' 
confusion. 


a  into  the  heart  of  a  word's  meaning,  of  stripping  it  of  all 


the  vague  associations  which  might  have  clustered  round 
it,  seemed  indispensable  as  part  of  the  mental  purgation 
which  should  precede  the  acquisition  of  true  wisdom. 
He  would  not  discuss  a  subject  until  the  exact  sense  in 
which  the  leading  words  were  to  be  used  was  fixed.  He 
would  allow  none  of  that  verbal  legerdemain  by  which 
the  same  word  could  be  used  in  two  senses  in  different 
stages  of  the  argument.  He  would  not  permit  the  dis- 
cussion to  be  mystified  by  a  metaphor,  however  familiar 
and  apposite,  until  the  limits  to  which  the  analogy 
extended,  and  the  point  beyond  which  it  did  not  extend, 
were  clearly  marked.  At  one  time,  one  of  the  professors 
of  Rhetoric  would  be  found  seeking  to  attract  pupils  by 
declaiming  in  favour  of  the  art  he  taught :  — 

Goroias.  "'  What  is  rhetoric?'  said  Socrates  calmly  to  Gorgias  one  day. 

'A  grand  science,' was  the  reply.  'But  the  science  of  what?'  'Of 
w<  irds.'  '  But  of  what  words  ?  Is  it  the  science,  for  example,  of  such 
words  as  a  physician  would  use  to  a  patient?'  'No,  certainly.'  'Then 
rhetoric  is  not  concerned  with  all  words?'  'No,  indeed.'  'Yet 
it  makes  men  able  to  speak?'  'Undoubtedly  that  is  its  purpose.' 
'  Does  it  help  them  to  think,  too,  on  the  subject  of  which  they  speak  ?  ' 
'  Certainly.'  '  But,  surely,  the  science  of  medicine  is  designed  to 
help  a  man  both  to  think  and  to  speak  on  those  matters  which  con- 
cern diseases.     Is  this  science  therefore  rhetoric?  '     '  No,  indeed.'  " 

So  he  goes  on  mentioning  one  science  after  another 
in  which  speech  and  thought  are  alike  necessary,  and 
compelling  Gorgias  to  admit  that  rhetoric  is  none  of 
these.  At  last  he  takes  refuge  in  the  general  statement 
that  rhetoric  is  the  art  of  persuasion,  and  instances  the 
fact  that,  in  all  public  movements,  a  fluent  speaker 
exercises  more  influence  over  the  multitude  than  any 
one  else.  Socrates  proceeds  to  enquire  whether,  if  the 
question  related  to  ship-building,  a  rhetorician  or  a  ship- 


The  Rhetor  s  art  61 

builder  would  be  the  best  guide  ;  and,  after  a  few  more 
questions,  convicts  his  interlocutor  of  professing  an  art 
which  seeks  to  produce  persuasion  without  knowledge, 
and  therefore  only  useful  for  the  unthinking  and  the 
ignorant.  Gorgias  afterwards  shifts  his  ground,  and  says 
that  the  true  province  of  rhetoric  is  that  persuasion 
which  relates  to  the  highest  matters,  that  which  is 
required  in  courts  of  justice,  and  in  determining  ques 
tions  of  right  and  wrong,  of  virtue  and  its  opposite.  A 
few  more  questions  lead  up  to  the  admission  that,  if  this 
be  the  case,  rhetoricians  ought  to  know  more  than  other 
people  about  these  great  subjects,  and  to  be  holier  and 
better  persons  than  their  fellow-citizens.  Gorgias  did 
not  like  this.  He  could  only  chafe,  and  fret,  and  be 
irritated.  He  could  not  deny  that  it  was  precisely  in 
this  sort  of  word-warfare  it  was  his  profession  to  be 
victorious,  and  that  in  this  case  he  had  not  been  the 
conqueror.  Perhaps,  if  he  were  a  vain  pedant,  he  would 
take  care  to  come  no  more  in  the  way  of  Socrates  and 
his  pitiless  dialectics ;  but,  if  he  were  a  modest  and 
sincere  searcher  after  truth,  he  would  be  the  wiser  after 
all  this  bewilderment,  even  though  the  conversation  had 
only  led  to  a  negative  and  unsatisfactory  result.  Per- 
plexity is  the  beginning  and  first  product  of  philosophy. 
It  is  necessary  that  all  excepted  truths  should  be  put  to 
the  question,  and  all  suppositions  given  up,  in  order  that 
they  may  hereafter  be  recovered  and  placed  in  their  true 
light  by  means  of  the  philosophic  process.  This  process 
was  in  Socrates's  time  beginning  to  be  applied  to  moral 
problems  chiefly,  and  to  the  recognized  hypotheses  about 
ethics  and  sociology.  It  was  reserved  for  a  later  age  — 
for  Bacon  and  for  Descartes,  and  Boyle  and  Leibnitz, 
their  successors,  to  see  the  true  function  of  the  sceptical 
spirit  in  the  domain  of  physics,  and  of  the  natural  world. 


62  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 

Relation  of  The  little  dialogue  I  have  just  summarized  illustrates 
to'virtue  one  feature>  an^  that  perhaps  the  most  vulnerable  feature, 
of  the  teaching  of  Socrates.  He  insisted  that  all  virtue 
was  ultimately  knowledge,  and  resolved  all  vice  into 
ignorance  and  folly.  This  is  a  favourite  doctrine  of  Plato, 
and  is  indeed  only  found  in  the  Platonic  dialogues. 
Aristotle   describes  him  as  teaching  that  all  virtues  are 

really     sciences     (c^povrpeis     e7n.o-T7/fias     tlval     Tracras     ras 

dperas).  Herein,  no  doubt,  Socrates  tells  the  truth,  but 
not  the  whole  truth.  A  certain  state  of  the  affections 
and  of  the  will  is  not  less  indispensable  as  a  condition  of 
virtue  than  a  certain  state  of  the  intelligence.  Aristotle 
is  justified  in  complaining  that  two  elements  seem  to  be 
wanting  in  the  teaching  ascribed  to  Socrates  —  the  TrdOos, 
or  feeling  in  favour  of  what  was  right,  and  the  rjOos,  or 
the  habit  of  right  doing.  Still,  Socrates  was  right  in 
insisting  that  there  can  be  no  true  virtue  without  an 
intelligent  consciousness  of  what  we  are  doing  and  of 
the  reasons  for  doing  it.  Stupid,  helpless  acquiescence 
in  the  mode  of  conduct  prescribed  for  us  by  others,  may 
be  very  convenient  to  rulers,  to  schoolmasters,  and  to 
parents  ;  but  it  is  not  virtue. 

On  this  point  Mr  Grote  has  well  said,1  "  Socrates  meant 
by  knowledge  something  more  than  is  directly  implied  in 
the  word.  He  had  present  to  his  mind  as  the  grand 
depravation  of  a  human  being,  not  so  much  vice  as  mad- 
ness —  that  state  in  which  a  man  does  not  know  what  he 
is  doing.  Against  the  vicious  man  securities  both  public 
and  private  may  be  taken  with  considerable  effect ; 
against  the  madman  there  is  no  security  except  perpetual 
restraint.  ..Madness  was  ignorance  at  its  extreme  pitch. 
There  were  many  varieties  and  gradations  in  the  scale  of 
ignorance,  which  if  accompanied  by  false  conceit  of 
1  History  of  Greece,  Vol.  VII.  p.  136. 


TJie  Sai/xcov  of  Socrates  63 

knowledge  differs  from  madness  only  in  degree.    The  worst 
of  all  ignorance  was  when  a  man  was  ignorant  of  himself." 

Perhaps  it  was  in  regard  to  his  theory  on  this  point,  The 
and  to  his  general  view  of  ethical  questions,  that  Socrates  **!"**  °J 
incurred  most  dislike  on  the  part  of  the  Athenian  people, 
and  was  most  often  misunderstood.  He  was  wont  to  talk 
much  of  his  Sai/Awv  or  genius,  as  if  he  had  within  him 
a  .divine  guide  in  matters  of  conduct,  a  prophetic  or 
supernatural  voice  nearly  always  prohibiting  or  warning, 
rarely  stimulating  or  instructive  —  a  tutelary  influence  such 
as  was  peculiar  to  himself,  and  was  not  always  accessible 
to  others.  Hegel  truly  interprets  this,  when  he  says  that 
by  it  the  philosopher  only  meant  to  symbolize  the  peculiar 
form  in  which  private  judgment  appeared  in  Socrates  him- 
self. Many  Greeks,  however  fond  of  merely  intellectual 
speculation,  were  little  used  to  determine  their  actions 
by  a  process  of  reflection.  Still  less  were  they  wont  to 
refer  to  anything  analogous  to  what  we  call  conscience. 
Its  place  was  supplied  by  habitual  conformity  to  law  and 
usage.  The  path  of  duty  was  so  accurately  marked  as 
to  leave  little  room  for  hesitation.  And  as  to  cases 
not  expressly  determined  by  legitimate  authority  or 
custom,  neither  the  State  nor  its  individual  members 
presumed  to  decide  for  themselves,  but  they  sought  the 
guidance  of  the  gods  by  consulting  an  oracle  or  by 
divination.  There  have  been  many  speculations  about 
the  meaning  of  the  Socratic  Sou/acov,  but  they  all  resolve 
themselves  into  this,  that  the  revolt  from  public  opinion 
on  the  one  hand,  and  from  oracles  on  the  other,  took 
the  form  of  insisting  on  individual  responsibility,  on  the 
need  for  a  clear  unclouded  judgment,  on  a  belief  that 
the  voice  of  truth,  the  whisper  of  moral  warning  and 
encouragement,  might  be  heard  by  those  who  were 
rightly  prepared  and  disciplined  to  listen, 


64  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 


"But  while  this  muddy  vesture  of  decay 
Doth  grossly  close  us  in,  we  cannot  hear  it." 

It  is  the  analogous  doctrine  to  that  which  is  found  in 
the  dreams  and  visions  of  the  Hebrew  prophets,  and  to 
the  sweet  and  gracious  legend  which  tells  of  the  music 
of  the  spheres.  There  is  the  confession  of  man  in  all 
ages,  of  his  need  of  access  to  something  higher,  truer, 
diviner  than  himself.  Grant  that  it  means  nothing  but 
the  purified  conscience,  the  truth  heard  in  silence  and 
meditation,  —  is  it  not,  under  all  these  forms,  the  Divine 
voice,  audible,  like  the  music  of  the  spheres,  to  the 
devout  and  reverent  hearer,  and  to  him  alone  ?  And, 
as  you  read  the  dialogues  of  Socrates,  and  find  him  so 
often  appealing  to  something  in  his  hearer  and  in  himself 
nearer  than  a  custom,  a  law,  a  teacher,  or  an  oracle,  you 
are  reminded  of  One  of  whom  we  spoke  in  the  last  lecture, 
who  never  paced  the  groves  of  Academus,  but  whose 
steps  were  in  the  streets  of  Jerusalem  or  over  the  hills 
of  Galilee,  and  who,  when  questioned  about  some  moral 
or  casuistical  question,  directed  His  answer  straight  to 
the  inner  conscience  of  the  questioner  himself.  We  saw 
illustrations  of  this  in  our  last  Lecture.  Let  me  add 
another,  which  is  curiously  characteristic  of  the  Socratic 
method.  A  questioner  asks:  "Who  is  my  neighbour?" 
and  the  answer  comes,  not  in  a  categorical  shape,  but  in 
the  form  of  a  story  :  "  A  certain  man  went  down  from 
Jerusalem  to  Jericho,"  —  and  then,  when  the  whole  story 
is  told,  comes  the  home  thrust,  "  Which  now  of  these 
three  thinkest  thou  was  neighbour  unto  him  that  fell 
among  thieves?  "  We,  too,  may  well  desire,  when  dealing 
with  our  pupils,  to  abstain  from  telling  them  what,  with 
a  little  trouble,  they  might  find  out  for  themselves,  and  to 
appeal  more  often  from  prescription  and  authority  to  the 
inner  sense  of  right,  which,  however  overlaid  or  silenced, 


Oracles  65 

is  to  be  found  deep  down  in  all  their  hearts.  Thus  we 
may  feel  that  we  are  working  in  harmony  with  the 
greatest  teachers  in  all  ages  of  the  world.  But  this  was 
not  the  view  which  the  contemporaries  of  Socrates  held 
about  him  and  his  Sai/xwy.  To  them  it  seemed  that  he 
was  setting  up  a  new  divine  being,  and  inviting  the 
Athenians  to  exchange  for  this  object  of  worship  their 
old  gods.  And  Socrates  did  not  care  to  correct  this 
impression,  although  the  main  accusation  made  by 
Anytus  at  the  trial  was  that  he  had  sought  to  overthrow 
the  belief  in  the  national  divinities  and  oracles. 

He  did  not,  however,  denounce  oracles,  although  he  Oracles. 
did  not  consult  them  for  himself  or  recommend  his 
disciples  to  appeal  to  them.  One  day,  one  of  those 
disciples,  named  Chserephon,  went  to  Delphi,  and  pro- 
posed to  the  god  the  question  whether  any  man  was 
wiser  than  Socrates.  The  answer  was  in  the  negative. 
Long  after,  in  his  defence  at  the  trial,  he  described  the 
effect  of  this  news  on  himself.     He  said  :  — 

"  Why,  what  enigma  is  this?  For  I  am  not  conscious  to  myself 
that  I  am  wise,  either  much  or  little.  What  can  the  god  mean  by 
saying  that  I  am  the  wisest?  So  I  went  for' myself  to  one  of  those 
who  have  the  reputation  of  being  wise,  thinking  that  there,  if  any- 
where, I  should  confute  the  oracle.  But,  when  I  came  to  question 
him,  he  appeared  indeed  to  be  wise  in  the  opinion  of  most  other 
men,  and  especially  in  his  own,  though  indeed  he  was  not  so.  So  I 
tried  to  show  him  that  what  he  took  for  knowledge  was  only  opinion 
and  conjecture,  and  in  this  way  I  became  odious  to  him  and  to 
many  others  present.  When  I  left  him  I  reasoned  thus  with  myself: 
'  I  am  wiser  than  this  man,  for  neither  of  us  appears  to  know  any- 
thing great  or  true,  but  he  fancies  he  knows  something,  whereas  I, 
as  I  do  not  know  anything,  do  not  fancy  that  I  do.'  In  this  trifling 
particular  only  do  I  appear  to  be  wiser  than  he. 

Afterwards  I  went  to  the  poets,  but  a  little  close  cross-examina- 
tion brought  me  to  a  like  conclusion  respecting  them.  But  when  I 
went  to  the  artizans,  I  said  to  myself,  '  Here,  indeed,  is  something 
in  which  I  am  inferior  to  these  men,  for  they  possess  some  very 
F 


66  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 

beautiful  knowledge.'  And  in  this  I  was  not  deceived,  for  they 
knew  things  which  I  did  not,  and,  in  this  respect,  were  wiser  than  I. 
But  even  the  best  of  these  men,  because  he  excelled  in  the  practice 
of  his  art,  thought  himself  knowing  in  most  other  matters,  and  this 
mistake  obscured  the  wisdom  he  already  possessed.  So  I  asked 
myself,  on  behalf  of  the  oracle,  whether  I  should  prefer  to  continue 
as  I  am,  possessing  none,  either  of  their  special  knowledge  or  of  their 
ignorant  estimate  of  themselves,  or  to  have  both  as  they  have.  And 
it  seemed  to  me,  on  the  whole,  that  I  had  best  continue  as  I  am." 

Handi-  You   will   see    that,  on    one    point   much   discussed 

among  the  educational  reformers  of  our  time  —  the 
educative  virtue  of  mere  handicraft  —  Socrates  would 
probably  not  have  agreed  with  the  current  opinion.  He 
would  not  have  regarded  manual  training  as  a  good 
substitute  for  intellectual  discipline.  He  had  seen  that 
certain  mechanical  dexterities  might  easily  co-exist  with 
complete  stagnation  of  mind,  with  great  poverty  of  ideas, 
and  with  a  curious  conceit  as  to  the  proportion  and 
relative  worth  of  the  sort  of  knowledge  the  artizan  did 
not  happen  to  possess.  I  think,  if  he  were  to  be  con- 
sulted in  our  day  by  the  advocates  of  technical  education, 
he  would  say,  "  Train  people's  hands  and  eyes  by  all 
means,  but  train  the  understanding  at  the  same  time. 
Let  your  pupil  know  well  the  properties  of  the  materials 
he  is  using,  and  the  nature  and  limits  of  the  forces  he 
employs.  Let  your  handwork  be  made  subservient  to 
careful  measurement,  to  the  cultivation  of  taste  and 
intelligence,  to  the  perception  of  artistic  beauty,  and 
then  it  will  play  a  real  part  in  the  development  of  what 
is  best  in  the  human  being ;  but,  unless  you  do  this,  you 
will  get  little  or  no  true  culture  out  of  carpentering, 
modelling,  or  needlework." 

Physical  Mr  Grote  says,  "  Physics  and  Astronomy  belonged  in 

the  opinion  of  Socrates  to  the  divine  class  of  phenomena, 
in  which  human  research  was  insane,  fruitless  and  even 


The  Physical  Sciences  67 

impious."  He  protested  against  the  presumption  of  Anax- 
agoras  who  had,  he  said,  degraded  Helios  and  Selene  into 
a  sun  and  moon  of  calculable  motions  and  magnitudes.1 

Nor  from  any  of  those  studies  which  have  of  late 
years  appropriated  the  name  of  Science,  did  Socrates 
hope  very  much.  He  tells  us,  in  the  Phcedo,  that  he  had 
in  early  life  felt  great  interest  in  enquiries  concerning 
natural  phenomena.  "  I  was  eager,"  he  said,  "  for  the 
investigation  of  Nature.  I  thought  it  a  matter  of  pride 
to  know  the  causes  of  things.  At  length,  fatigued  with 
studying  objects  through  the  perceptions  of  the  senses 
only,  I  looked  for  the  ideas,  or  reflections  of  them,  in 
the  mind,  and  turned  my  attention  to  words  and  dis- 
courses." It  must  be  owned  that  what  he  called  the 
investigation  of  Nature  was  not  physical  science  in  the 
modern  sense  of  the  term  —  the  discovery,  recordation, 
and  systematic  arrangement  of  facts.  It  was  rather  the 
search  for  some  primary  principles  by  which  the  facts  of 
Nature  might  be  explained.  Be  this  as  it  may,  he  found 
the  enquiry  fruitless  and  unsatisfying,  and  he  concluded, 
though  somewhat  rashly,  that  the  mysteries  of  the 
physical  world  were  not  fitting  subjects  for  human 
investigation. 

The  example  of  Socrates  is  specially  instructive,  as  Conversa- 
it  regards  his  method  of  inviting  the  co-operation  of  his  'i°//'.i'[" 
disciples  in  the  discussion  of  difficulties  and  in  the  search  tional  in- 
for  truth.     Mr  Grote  has  said,  "  His  object  was  not  to  mul-  strumeni- 
tiply  proselytes  or  to  procure  authoritative  assent,  but  to 
create  earnest  seekers,  analytical  intellects,  foreknowing 
and  consistent  agents,  capable  of  forming   conclusions 
for  themselves ;  as  well  as  to  force  them  into  that  path 
of  inductive    generalization   whereby  alone    trustworthy 
conclusions  are  to   be   formed."  *     And   this  object  he 

1  Grote's  History  of  Greece,  Vol.  VII.  p.  130. 


68  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 

sought  to  attain  not  by  didactic  lectures  but  by  the 
heuristic  and  conversational  method,  by  making  a  theory 
or  a  philosophical  problem  the  subject  of  free  talk,  by 
starting  difficulties,  by  citing  examples  and  by  what 
Johnson  called  a  "  brisk  reciprocation  of  objections  and 
replies." 
Need  for  This  is  not  a  method  adapted  for  a  teacher's  use  in 

colloquies  dealing  with  young  children  ;  but  with  elder  scholars  it 
with  elder  may  often  be  employed  with  great  advantage.  Much 
of  the  hesitation  and  confusion  which  characterize  the 
average  Englishman,  in  expressing  his  own  thoughts  on 
serious  subjects  or  in  public,  arises  from  the  fact  that  in 
our  education  there  has  been,  on  the  part  of  his  teachers, 
abundant  use  of  monologue,  but  very  little  of  dialogue. 
We  do  not  often  enough  challenge  a  scholar  to  tell  in 
his  own  words  what  he  thinks  or  what  he  knows.  Still 
less  do  we  ask  him  to  give  a  reason  for  any  opinion  he 
holds.  Now  although  much  of  Socrates's  teaching  was 
directed  against  sophistry,  and  false  rhetoric,  there  runs 
through  it  all  a  conviction  of  the  importance  of  clear 
statement,  and  the  desire  to  encourage  accurate  expres- 
sion for  whatever  thoughts  the  learner  had  in  his  mind. 
And  the  main  instrument  in  achieving  this  end  was 
conversation.  It  is  manifestly  better  suited  for  some 
subjects  than  for  others.  It  would  seldom  be  needed  for 
the  discussion  of  facts  in  physical  science,  for  mathe- 
matics, or  for  the  grammar  of  a  language.  Nor  should  we 
ask  a  learner  to  express  an  opinion  on  a  topic,  on  which 
he  has  had  no  means  of  forming  one.  But  after  lessons  in 
history,  or  philosophy,  or  any  of  the  sciences  which  bear 
on  morals  or  conduct,  an  informal  colloquy  between  the 
teachers  and  the  members  of  a  small  upper  class  will  be 
found  to  give  an  excellent  stimulus  not  only  to  thinking, 
but  also  to  the  practice  of  correct  and  forcible  expression. 


Subjects  suited  for  colloquy  69 

For  example,  I  have  known  a  teacher  who  reserved  Some 
half-an-hour  a  week  for  a  conversational  lesson  with  the**^^, 
highest  class  on  a  character  in  history,  on  some  book,  or  on  such  collo- 
the  elementary  truths  of  economic  science.  Such  topics  ^Ul" 
as  wages,  the  values  of  various  kinds  of  work,  division  of 
labour,  taxes,  money,  interest,  and  the  conditions  of 
professional  success,  are  specially  interesting  to  elder  boys 
beginning  to  think  about  the  business  of  life.  The  role 
of  pedagogue  is  for  the  time  laid  aside  by  the  teacher, 
and  he  and  his  scholars  talk  round  the  ethical  or  the 
economic  problem  on  equal  terms.  In  like  manner,  to 
elder  girls  of  the  upper  and  middle  class,  who  look  for- 
ward to  a  life  of  usefulness,  and  who  have  philanthropic 
instincts,  these  and  the  cognate  questions  of  charity, 
forethought,  thrift,  the  right  way  of  organizing  relief, 
the  best  way  to  administer  the  Poor  Law,  and  to  help 
people  to  help  themselves,  are  matters  of  great  moment, 
and  are  demanding  and  receiving  increased  attention. 
In  all  this  domain  of  thought  and  of  human  experience, 
there  are  many  current  popular  fallacies,  which  a  little 
Socratic  investigation  would  soon  detect  and  remove.  A 
French  writer,  Frederic  Bastiat,  wrote  a  book  once  called 
Ce  qic'on  voit,  et  ce  que  11011  twit  pas,  and  exposed  by  a 
series  of  illustrations  the  difference  between  what  is  seen 
and  what  is  not  seen  in  the  practical  economy  of  life.  At 
first  sight  men  conclude,  e.g.  that  war  is  good  for  trade 
because  it  makes  the  money  fly ;  that  the  saving  and 
careful  master  of  a  fortune  is  not  so  good  a  friend  to  the 
community  as  the  spendthrift ;  that  almsgiving  is  always 
a  virtue  ;  that  capital  and  labour  have  antagonist  inter- 
ests ;  that  the  State  ought  to  have  nothing  to  do  with 
education,  with  art,  with  public  recreation  ;  and  that  all 
these  things  should  be  left  to  private  enterprise.  It  is 
good  that  elder  scholars  at  least  should  learn   to  think 


JO  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 

about  these  and  the  like  topics,  and  to  balance  the 
considerations  which  may  be  urged  for  and  against  any 
general  conclusions  on  such  subjects.  They  need  to 
bring  examples  and  experience  together,  from  different 
sources,  to  examine  apparent  exceptions  to  general 
rules,  and  to  suspend  judgment.  And  for  all  these 
purposes,  conversational  lessons  are  the  best  —  lessons  in 
which  the  scholars  are  invited  to  suggest  difficulties,  to 
start  hypotheses  and  to  examine  plausible  fallacies.  Here 
is  a  feature  of  Greek  education  which,  to  say  the  truth, 
is  somewhat  lacking  in  ours.  One  part  of  school  train- 
ing should  be  directed  to  the  art  of  forming  conclusions 
on  matters  of  high  public  interest,  to  the  discipline  which 
helps  a  man  to  explain,  and,  if  needful,  to  maintain  and 
defend  the  opinions  he  is  supposed  to  hold.  Here  is 
a  region  in  which  one  familiar  with  Socratic  dialectics 
will  be  at  a  great  advantage  over  all  others,  and  in 
which  that  method  of  intellectual  enquiry  will  be  found 
specially  applicable.  Only  it  deserves  to  be  noticed  that 
to  conduct  such  a  conversation  to  good  purpose  requires 
no  little  skill  and  alertness  of  mind  on  the  part  of  the 
teacher ;  and  that  sympathetic  insight  and  a  sense  of 
humour  are  also  indispensable. 
A  dialogue  The  well-known  story  of  the  sophist  Meno  and  the 
of  search.  siave.^0y  illustrates  one  conspicuous  feature  in  the 
Socratic  teaching  as  it  is  expounded  in  Plato.  You  will 
remember,  Meno  has  been  complaining  that  Socrates's 
conversations  had  the  effect  of  preventing  him  from 
feeling  any  confidence  in  himself.  "  You  remind  me, 
Socrates,  of  that  broad  sea-fish,  the  torpedo,  which 
benumbs  those  whom  it  touches.  For,  indeed,  I  am 
benumbed  both  in  mind  and  mouth,  and  do  not  know 
what  or  how  to  answer."  Whereupon,  Socrates  calls  a 
slave-boy  to  him,  draws  on  a  line  two  feet  long  a  square 


A  dialogue  of  search  J I 

on  the  ground  with  a  stick,  and  asks  him  first  whether  it  is 
possible  to  have  a  square  double  the  size,  and  next  what 
should  be  the  length  of  the  line  on  which  such  a  square 
should  be  drawn.  The  boy  answers  promptly,  that  for 
the  double  square  the  line  should  be  of  double  the 
length,  or  four  feet.  Socrates  turns  to  Meno  and  says, 
"  You  see  that  this  boy  thinks  he  knows,  but  does  not 
really  know."  He  then  goes  on  to  draw  another  square 
on  the  double  line,  and  teacher  and  pupil  observe  to- 
gether that  this  is  not  twice  but  four  times  the  size.  The 
boy  is  puzzled  and  suggests  a  line  three  feet  long ;  but 
further  trial  shows  that  the  square  thus  formed  contains 
nine  square  feet  instead  of  eight.  Whereupon  Socrates 
enquires  of  the  boy,  since  neither  a  line  of  three  feet, 
nor  a  line  of  four  feet,  will  serve  as  the  base  of  the  re- 
quired double  square,  "  What  is  the  true  length  ?  "  and  the 
answer  is,  "  By  Jove,  Socrates,  I  do  not  know."  Here 
the  master  again  turns  to  Meno,  and  says,  "  Observe, 
this  boy  at  first  knew  not  the  right  length  of  the  desired 
line,  neither  does  he  yet  know ;  but  he  then  fancied  he 
knew,  and  answered  boldly,  as  a  knowing  person  would. 
But  he  is  now  at  a  loss,  and,  as  he  knows  not,  does  not 
even  think  he  knows."  "True,"  says  Meno.  "But 
then,"  replies  Socrates,  "  is  he  not  in  a  better  condition 
now  than  at  first,  in  regard  to  the  matter  of  which  he 
was  and  is  still  ignorant  ?  "  "Certainly."  "So  in  benumb- 
ing him  like  the  torpedo,  and  making  him  speechless  for 
a  time,  have  we  done  him  any  harm?  "  Then  by  a  series 
of  experimental  drawings,  which  Socrates  makes  partly 
by  help  of  suggestions  on  the  part  of  the  boy,  he  comes 
at  last  to  draw  the  diagonal  of  the  first  square,  and  to 
erect  a  second  square  on  that,  and  so  to  reveal  clearly 
to  the  learner  the  true  method  of  solving  the  problem 
proposed. 


y"2  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching' 

Know-  You  will  notice    one    important    point  in  connexion 

implicit  w'tn  tms    dialogue  w'tn    Meno.     Socrates  held  that    all 

as  well  as  teaching    need    not    come    in     the    shape  of    teaching. 

exphat.  « you    see^,,  said    )lCj  « that    j    teach  t]lis  boy  nothings 

I  only  help  him  to  find  and  express  what  is  already  in 

his  mind."     The  truth  is  there.     It  is  discoverable  if  we 

only  put   him  on  the  right  track.     It  is  better  that  he 

should  find  it  for  himself,  or  at  least  take  a  fair  share 

in    the   investigation,    than   that    we    should    give    him 

any   information    about    it    in   an    explicit   or   didactic 

form. 

The  doc-  This  belief  that   a  true   educational   discipline    con- 

trine  oj      sisted     rather    in    searching     and    finding    knowledge, 
reminis-  .  ...  .  . 

cence.         than   in    passively  receiving   it,  was   a   prominent   item 

in  Socrates's  creed.  He  thought  that  a  great  part  of 
what  men  wanted  to  know  they  might  find  out  by  self- 
interrogation,  by  meditation,  and  by  purely  internal 
mental  processes.  And  if  you  had  asked  Socrates  or 
Plato  how  he  accounted  for  this  fact,  his  answer  would 
have  been  a  curious  one.  He  would  have  said  that 
while  it  was  the  duty  of  a  teacher  to  make  our  knowledge 
explicit,  much  of  it  was  in  fact  implicit,  a  survival  of 
what  had  been  known  in  a  former  state  of  existence.  He 
believed  that  the  human  soul  has  not  only  a  great  future, 
but  also  a  great  past ;  and  that  many  of  our  thoughts  are, 
in  fact,  reminiscences  —  faint  echoes  and  memories  of 
those  which  we  have  had  in  a  former  life.  There  are 
truths,  he  said,  which,  when  we  search  down  into  the 
inner  mind,  we  recognize  dimly  as  old  acquaintances, 
and  yet  which  we  have  never  consciously  perceived  since 
we  were  born.  All  the  occupations  and  interests  of  this 
life,  no  doubt,  tend  to  overlay  these  truths,  —  to  bury 
them  out  of  their  sight ;  but  they  are  there,  requiring 
only  the  purified  vision  and  the  dialectical  discipline  to 


TJic  doctrine  of  reminiscence  73 


bring  them  into  consciousness  again.  Much  of  what  we 
call  knowledge  is,  in  fact,  recollection.  It  would  not  be 
right  to  say  that  Socrates  formulated  this  notion  of  a  pre- 
existent  life  into  a  creed,  —  it  was  not  the  habit  of  his 
mind  to  dogmatize  on  such  subjects, — but  it  seems 
certain  that  he  believed  it,  and  that  he  accounted  for 
many  of  the  facts  of  our  intellectual  life  on  this  hypo- 
thesis. The  whole  doctrine,  however,  has,  as  I  need 
hardly  tell  you,  no  place  in  modern  philosophy.  It  takes 
no  account  of  experience  ;  none,  of  associations  or  the 
reflex  action  of  sensation  and  thought ;  none,  of  hereditary 
tendencies ;  none,  of  the  daily  discipline  through  which 
the  least  observant  child  is  passing,  even  when  he  is  not 
conscious  that  he  is  learning  anything.  And,  as  a  philo- 
sophical theory,  it  has  the  serious  defect  that  it  offers  to 
us  a  fanciful  and  wholly  unverified  hypothesis  to  account 
for  mental  phenomena  which  are  explicable  by  much 
simpler  and  more  natural  considerations.  What  the  dia- 
logue really  does  is,  not  to  unearth  buried  or  forgotten 
knowledge  but  only  to  formulate  and  bring  into  clearer 
vision  elementary  truths  hitherto  seen  obscurely,  half 
known  by  intuition  and  contact  with  objects,  but  not 
known  consciously  as  truths  intellectually  expressible. 

But,  though  the  doctrine  of  a  pre-natal  existence  has  Pre-nata, 
disappeared  from  philosophy,  it  lingers  still  —  where, exlstence- 
indeed,  the  finer  aroma  and  essence  of  all  speculation 
ought  to  linger — in  our  poetry.  Perhaps  the  noblest  burst 
of  poetic  inspiration  which  our  century  has  witnessed, 
is  to  be  found  in  Wordsworth's  ode,  "  Intimations  of 
Immortality  from  Recollections  of  Early  Childhood." 
And  in  that  well-known  poem  there  are  some  echoes  of 
the  Socvatic,  or  rather  the  Platonic,  theory  of  reminis- 
cence, which,  though  faint,  will  yet  be  very  audible  to 
us,  as  I  read  some  of  the  lines  :  — 


74  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 


"  Our  birth  is  but  a  sleep  and  a  forgetting; 
The  Soul  that  rises  with  us,  our  life's  Star, 
Hath  had  elsewhere  its  setting, 

And  cometh  from  afar : 
Not  in  entire  forgetfulness 
And  not  in  utter  nakedness, 
But  trailing  clouds  of  glory,  do  we  come 

From  God  who  is  our  home. 
Heaven  lies  about  us  in  our  infancy. 
Shades  of  the  prison-house  begin  to  close 

Upon  the  growing  boy; 
But  he  beholds  the  light  and  whence  it  flows, 

He  sees  it  in  his  joy. 
The  youth  who  daily  farther  from  the  East 
Must  travel,  still  is  Nature's  priest, 
And,  by  the  vision  splendid, 
Is  on  his  way  attended. 
»  At  length  the  man  perceives  it  die  away 
And  fade  into  the  light  of  common  day. 

"  Earth  fills  her  lap  with  pleasures  of  her  own, 
Yearnings  she  hath  in  her  own  natural  kind, 
And  even  with  something  of  a  mother's  mind, 
And  no  unworthy  aim, 
The  homely  nurse  doth  all  she  can 
To  make  her  foster-child,  her  inmate  man, 

Forget  the  glories  he  hath  known, 
And  that  imperial  palace  whence  he  came. 

"  Hence,  in  a  season  of  calm  weather, 
Though  inland  far  we  be, 
Our  souls  have  sight  of  that  immortal  sea 
Which  brought  us  hither,  — 
Can  in  a  moment  travel  thither 
And  see  the  children  sport  upon  the  shore, 
And  hear  the  mighty  waters  rolling  evermore." 

Socrates  a         But  it  is  not  alone  as  a  dialectician,  but  as  a  preacher 

preacher of Qf  righteousness  that   Socrates   best  deserves  to  be  re- 

righleous-  ° 

ness.  membered.     His  high  ideals,  his  scorn  of  unreality  and 

pretence,   the  constant  straining  of  his  eyes  after  the 


Socrates  a  preacher  of  righteousness  75 

discovery  of  truth,  and  his  efforts  to  remove  all  hindrances 
which  conventionalities  and  prejudices  placed  in  the  way 
of  such  discovery,  are  after  all  the  qualities  which  entitle 
him  to  rank  among  the  world's  noblest  teachers.  That 
is  a  touching  and  characteristic  picture  which  Plato 
gives  of  the  conversation  of  the  old  philosopher  with 
Phaedrus,  as  they  walked  by  the  Ilissus,  and  after  cooling 
their  feet  in  the  stream  and  finding  a  seat  under  a  tower- 
ing plane  tree,  occupied  themselves  during  the  long  hours 
of  a  summer's  day  discoursing  of  duty,  and  immortality, 
of  knowledge  and  ignorance,  of  truth  and  falsehood,  of 
holiness  and  virtue.  And  at  the  end  of  their  talk  on 
these  high  matters  they  rise  to  depart  homewards  and 
Socrates  says,  "  My  dear  Phaedrus,  would  it  not  be  well  to 
offer  up  a  prayer  to  the  gods  before  we  go?  "  And  when 
Phaedrus  assents, 'the  old  sage  lifts  up  his  voice  and  says  : 

"  Beloved  Pan  and  all  ye  other  gods  who  here  abide, 
grant  me  to  be  beautiful  in  the  inner  soul,  and  all  I  have 
of  outward  things  to  be  in  harmony  with  those  within. 
May  I  count  the  wise  man  alone  rich.  And  may  my  own 
store  of  gold  be  only  such  as  none  but  the  good  can  bear." 

As  I  read  these  words  you  are  reminded  of  another 
teacher  who  prayed  for  those  whom  he  taught  and 
loved  that  they  "  might  be  strengthened  with  might 
in  the  inner  man."  Paul  it  is  true  did  not  regard  Pan 
and  the  Sylvan  deities  as  the  sources  of  the  help  he 
needed,  but  he  and  Socrates  were  alike  in  looking  for 
strength  and  inspiration  to  the  highest  source  they  knew, 
and  opening  their  hearts  to  the  best  and  noblest  influ- 
ences which  they  believed  to  be  accessible  to  them. 
What  more  can  any  of  us  hope  to  do? 

We   all   know   that   Socrates   became   an   object   of  The  accu- 
popular  hatred.     Men  like  to  see  their  disbeliefs  as  \\e\\Sl7//on 

...     agonist 

as  their  beliefs  incarnate.      Abstract  principles  excite  in  Socrates. 


y6  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 

them  a  comparatively  languid  interest  and  but  little 
enthusiasm.  But,  let  principles  be  represented  in  the 
person  of  a  man,  and  there  is  at  once  something  to  love 
or  to  hate,  something  to  adore  or  to  denounce.  Now, 
Socrates  stood  to  the  Athenian  people  as  the  living 
symbol  of  the  principle  of  nonconformity,  of  intellectual 
unrest,  of  the  spirit  which  doubts  and  questions  the 
perfection  of  established  institutions  and  the  truth  of 
established  beliefs.  In  all  ages  of  the  world,  such 
persons  are  unpopular,  because  their  presence  is  incon- 
venient. I  suppose  in  no  other  city  than  Athens  would 
the  community  so  long  have  tolerated  a  man  who  be- 
longed to  no  party,  but  who  regarded  some  of  the  pet 
beliefs  of  all  parties  to  be  equally  untenable.  Accord- 
ingly, you  are  not  surprised  that  Anytus,  Melitus,  and 
Lykon,  presented  to  the  Dikastery,  and  hung  up  in  the 
appointed  place  in  the  portico  of  the  Archon,  a  formal 
accusation  charging  him  with  the  twofold  crime  of  not 
believing  the  popular  faith,  and  of  corrupting  the  youth 
by  leading  them  also  to  be  sceptical.  The  accusation 
was  made  in  open  court ;  the  case  was  tried  by  one  of 
those  enormous  Athenian  juries,  which  consisted  of  550 
members,  who,  by  a  majority  of  five,  condemned  him 
and  sentenced  him  to  death. 
Bis  trial.  On  the  circumstances  of  the  trial,  on  the  terms  of 
his  defence  or  Apologia,  which  are  to  be  found,  though 
differently  told,  in  Plato  and  in  Xenophon,  I  have  no 
time  now  to  dwell.  The  philosopher  disdained  to  employ 
any  of  the  usual  artifices  of  rhetoric  in  his  defence,  made 
no  appeal  to  the  compassion  of  his  judges,  and  calmly 
said  that  he  believed  he  had  a  divine  calling  to  the  work 
which  he  had  done,  and  that  even  if  they  would  acquit  him 
on  condition  of  his  ceasing  to  interrogate  them,  he  could 
not  accept  his  liberty  on  such  terms.     If,  he  said,  they 


Trial  of  Socrates  77 


really  desired  to  know  what  was  the  recompense  to  which 
he  was  entitled,  it  would  be  a  home  in  the  Prytanaeum  — 
a  dignified  almshouse  in  which  those  Athenian  citizens 
who  had  done  the  State  eminent  service,  were  honourably 
lodged  at  the  public  expense. 

During  the  interval  between  his  conviction  and  death, 
some  of  his  friends  devised  a  plan  for  his  escape,  and 
Crito,  one  of  the  warmest  of  them,  is  deputed  to  go  to 
him  and  ask  his  consent  to  the  scheme.  So  the  master 
begins  calmly  to  question  him  in  the  old  way  as  to  the 
duty  of  a  good  citizen  in  regard  to  obedience  to  the  laws. 
He  brings  Crito  to  admit  that  to  defy  the  tribunal  which 
he  had  always  taught  men  to  hold  sacred,  would  be  to 
neutralize  all  his  former  teaching  :  — 

"  Within  my  own  mind,  Crito,"  he  said,  "  the  accustomed  voice 
of  my  guardian  deity,  which  has  led  me  for  nearly  eighty  years, 
has  been  very  audible  of  late.  '  Do  you  think,  Socrates,'  it  said,  '  to 
live  for  the  sake  of  your  children,  that  you  may  rear  and  educate 
them?  What  sort  of  education  can  you  give  them  in  another 
country,  where  they  will  be  aliens,  and  yourself  a  dishonoured 
exile?  Will  they  not  be  better  educated  by  the  memory  of  their 
father's  rectitude,  and  by  the  loving  care  of  his  disciples  and 
friends?  Do  not,  therefore,  be  persuaded  to  set  a  higher  value  on 
your  children  or  your  life  than  on  that  justice  you  have  so  long 
taught  men  to  respect.  For,  be  assured,  that  the  heroes  and  sages 
of  our  land,  who  are  now  in  Hades,  will  receive  you  favourably  if 
you  depart  out  of  this  life  with  honour;  and  the  gods,  who  gave 
you  your  commission,  are  looking  lovingly  upon  you  to  see  how 
faithfully  you  discharge  it.'  These  words,  my  dear  Crito,  I  have 
seemed  to  hear  in  my  solitude,  just  as  the  votaries  of  Apollo  seem  to 
hear  the  music  of  his  divine  choir.  And  the  sound  of  them  comes 
ringing  in  my  ears,  and  makes  me  almost  incapable  of  listening  to 
anything  else.  What  say  you,  my  Crito,  shall  we  discuss  your 
plans  of  escape  now?"  "Indeed,"  said  the  sorrowful  disciple,  "I 
have  no  more  to  say." 

It  was  on   the   last   day  of  his   imprisonment   that 


?S  Socrates  and  his  method  of  teaching 

the  most  memorable  of  his  recorded  conversations  —  the 
Phcedo  —  took  place.  It  related  to  the  immortality  of  the 
soul ;  and  in  it  are  to  be  found,  logically  drawn  out,  yet 
not  without  an  overhanging  sense  of  pathos  and  sadness, 
many  of  the  merely  natural  arguments,  on  which  in  later 
days  Christian  writers,  from  St  Augustine  to  Bishop 
Butler,  have  relied  by  way  of  antecedent  proof  of  the 
soul's  immortality  and  of  the  existence  of  a  future  state. 
His  death.  The  sentence  was  that  the  philosopher  should  die  by 
poison,  and  that  it  should  be  administered  at  sunset. 
We  may  picture  to  ourselves  the  scene  in  the  little  cell 
on  the  afternoon  of  the  final  day.  Socrates  sat  upon  the 
side  of  his  bed  talking  as  in  old  days,  and  round  him 
were  grouped  some  six  or  seven  of  his  most  affectionate 
disciples.  As  the  shadows  grew  longer,  and  ray  by  ray 
the  sun  descended  to  the  west,  the  conversation  became 
more  earnest,  and  the  voices  of  the  friends  became  more 
tremulous.  Each  looked  into  himself  in  search  of  the 
parting  thought  which  he  could  not  find ;  each  strove 
to  fashion  the  farewell  words  he  could  not  utter.  The 
master  alone  seemed  unmoved.  Perhaps  a  little  more 
eagerness  than  usual  to  bring  the  argument  to  a  point 
might  be  observed ;  but  otherwise,  he  was  as  of  old, 
disentangling  subtleties  and  fallacies  with  the  accustomed 
pertinacity,  and  striving  rather  to  put  his  hearers  in  the 
right  way  to  arrive  at  truth,  than  to  give  them  a  creed  of 
his  own. 

When  near  sunset,  the  gaoler  entered  and  said,  "  I 
am  come  by  order  of  the  archons  to  bid  you  drink  the 
hemlock.  I  have  always  found  you  to  be  the  meekest, 
the  most  noble  man  that  ever  came  into  this  place.  Do 
not  upbraid  me,  therefore,  for  you  know  it  is  not  I  that 
am  to  blame."  And,  bursting  into  tears,  he  withdrew. 
Turning  to  his  friends,  Socrates  said,  "  How  courteous 


His  death  79 

this  man  is  !  He  has  visited  me,  and  proved  the 
worthiest  and  kindest  of  men,  and  now  you  see  how 
generously  he  weeps  for  me.  Is  the  hemlock  ready  ?  " 
One  of  his  friends  remarks,  "  I  think,  Socrates,  that  the 
sun  is  still  upon  the  mountains  and  has  not  yet  set,  and 
I  have  known  some  men  even  who  have  drunk  the  potion 
very  late,  and  have  had  time  to  sup  and  drink  freely 
first." 

"Those  men  whom  you  mention,"  said  Socrates,  "do 
these  things  with  good  reason,  and  I,  with  good  reason, 
will  not  do  so ;  for  I  think  I  shall  gain  nothing  by 
drinking  a  little  later,  except  to  become  ridiculous  to 
myself  in  being  so  fond  of  life,  and  so  sparing  of  it, 
when  none  remains.  And  now  farewell.  We  part  our 
several  ways,  you  to  live  and  I  to  die,  but  whether  the 
one  or  the  other  is  the  better  way  none  of  us  yet  can 
know." 

This  is  an  ancient  and  a  familiar  story  —  so  ancient 
and  so  familiar,  that  I  felt  a  little  diffidence  in  bringing  it 
under  the  notice  of  this  audience,  among  whom  are  some 
who  know  it  much  better  than  I  do.  Yet  it  has  not 
wholly  lost  its  moral  significance.  Much  of  the  teaching 
of  Socrates  is  now  obsolete.  Some  of  the  objects  he 
sought  to  attain,  we  have  long  learned  to  regard  as  unat- 
tainable. But  the  difficulties  with  which  he  was  con- 
fronted exist  more  or  less  in  all  ages  of  the  world.  He 
saw  around  him  men  who  had  never  harboured  doubts 
simply  because  they  had  never  examined,  who  held  con- 
victions all  the  more  angrily  simply  because  those  con- 
victions had  never  been  verified.  The  mere  associations 
accidentally  connected  with  the  truths  men  loved,  he 
saw  were  constantly  mistaken  for  the  real  living  truths 
themselves.  He  chose  for  the  objects  of  his  attack 
opinions  without  knowledge,  acquiescence  without  insight, 


80  Socrates  and  his  mctliod  of  teaching 

words  without  meaning,  and  dogmas  without  proof. 
And,  until  these  phenomena  shall  have  become  wholly 
extinct  in  the  world,  there  will  always  be  use  in  phi- 
losophy for  the  Socratic  dialectics,  and  an  honoured 
place  in  our  educational  history  for  the  life  of  the  phi- 
losopher himself. 


LECTURE    III 

THE   EVOLUTION    OF   CHARACTER1 

Charles  Darwin.  The  main  doctrines  of  Evolution.  Their  appli- 
cation to  social  life.  Limits  to  the  use  of  analogy.  Character 
a  growth,  not  a  manufacture.  Intellectual  food  and  digestion. 
Punishments.  Moral  precepts.  When  general  rules  are  opera- 
tive. Didactic  teaching.  Experiences  of  childhood.  The  law 
of  environment.  The  conditions  of  our  life  as  determinants  of 
character.  How  far  these  conditions  are  alterable  at  will.  The 
moral  atmosphere  of  a  school.  Influence  of  the  teacher's  personal 
character.  Natural  selection.  Conscious  selection  of  the  fittest 
conditions.  Degeneration.  Unused  faculties.  Progression  or 
retrogression.  The  law  of  divergence  in  plants  and  animals, 
and  in  social  institutions,  and  in  intellectual  character.  Special 
aptitudes  and  tastes.  How  far  they  should  be  encouraged. 
Eccentricity.  Evolution  a  hopeful  creed.  The  promise  of  the 
future.  . 

In  the  great  Natural  History  Museum  in  London  ckarles 
there  are  illustrations,  collected  from  all  lands,  of  the  Darwin. 
different  forms  of  animal  life,  from  the  tiniest  insect 
to  the  ichthyosaurus ;  and  in  all  the  halls  of  that  vast 
and  varied  collection  there  is  but  one  representation 
of  man  himself.  It  is  a  sitting  figure  in  marble  of 
Charles  Darwin.  Many  naturalists  before  him  had 
investigated  the  phenomena  of  the  animal  kingdom, 
and  sought   to  classify  and  describe  its  denizens ;   but 

1  An  Address  to  the  American  Institute  of  Instruction,  Newport, 
Rhode  Island,  July,  1888. 

G  8l 


82  The  Evolution  of  Character 

to  him  it  was  given  in  a  supreme  degree  to  perceive 
the  nature  of  animal  and  vegetable  existence  and  to 
trace  some  of  the  laws  of  its  development.  Other  writers 
may  have  dealt  skilfully  with  problems  of  more  or  less 
ephemeral  or  local  interest,  with  this  or  that  particular 
country,  literature,  or  religion ;  but  it  was  Darwin's 
vocation  to  search  out  the  nature  of  life  itself — to  in- 
quire into  the  laws  of  being,  of  growth,  and  of  develop- 
ment in  the  animal  and  vegetable  world.  And  these  are 
subjects  of  profound  and  universal  interest.  They  appeal 
to  the  living  sympathies,  the  imagination,  of  all  mankind, 
and  to  that  concern  about  the  past  and  future  of  his  race 
which  characterizes,  in  various  degrees,  every  intelligent 
human  being. 
The  main        You  are  all  probably  familiar  with  the  main  items 

to,  imcs    .      j     modern  creed  of  evolution.    Varieties  and  different 
of  revolu- 
tion, species  of  animals  and  plants  are  not  accounted  for  by 

the  hypothesis  of  separate  acts  of  creation,  but  are  the 

product   partly  of  the    conditions  of  environment,  and 

partly  of  natural  selection.     Certain  organs  and  qualities 

become  strengthened   by  exercise  and  more  and   more 

fully  developed  in  successive  generations  ;  certain  others 

become  weakened  by  disuse,  and  gradually  disappear  or 

survive  only  in  a  rudimentary  form.    Lamarck  had  pointed 

out  before  Darwin  that  new  wants  in  animals  gave  rise  to 

new  movements  which  in  time  produce  organs,  and  that 

the  development  of  these  organs  was  in  proportion  to 

their   employment.      In   the  struggle   for  existence   the 

weaker  organisms  are  conquered,  the  stronger  and  the 

fitter   prevail,    and    transmit    their   special    qualities   to 

posterity.     Favourable  variations  in  certain  circumstances 

tend  to  be  preserved  and  unfavourable  to  be  destroyed, 

and  the  result  is  the  formation  from  time  to  time  of  what 

are  called  new  species  and  varieties. 


Social  Evolution 


Such  are  in  briefest  outline  some  of  the  generalizations 
to  which  the  researches  of  biologists  have  at  present  led 
us.  They  may  possibly  be  absorbed  and  superseded 
hereafter  by  some  larger  and  more  comprehensive  in- 
ductions ;  but  at  present  they  are  accepted  by  men  of 
science  as  at  least  the  best  provisional  hypotheses  we 
possess  for  explaining  the  genesis  of  the  various  forms  of 
organic  life  on  the  earth.  And  when  once  the  student 
of  Darwin's  writings  grasps  the  meaning  of  these  simple 
statements,  he  begins  to  perceive  that  they  are  far-reaching, 
and  applicable  to  other  departments  of  enquiry  besides 
that  which  concerns  the  lives  of  animals  and  plants. 

In  Herbert  Spencer's  writings  on  Sociology  you  will  Their  ap- 
find  analogous  methods  of  enquiry  and  of  reasoning^  lcatt.°" 
applied  to  the  growth  of  laws  and  customs,  to  the  history  life. 
of  institutions,  to  the  development  of  our  social  and 
political  life.  These  things  have  not  been  shaped  by 
accident ;  they  have  not,  so  far  as  we  can  ascertain,  had 
their  forms  consciously  predetermined  by  any  authority 
human  or  divine.  They  have  become  what  they  are  by 
processes  not  unlike  those  which  operate  in  the  region 
of  animated  nature,  by  the  conditions  of  existence,  by 
climate,  soil,  circumstance ;  by  the  motives  which  have 
determined  the  putting  forth  of  energy ;  and  by  the 
direction  in  which  that  energy  has  exerted  itself.  Into 
this  wide  and  fruitful  region  of  speculation  we  will  not 
now  attempt  to  travel.  I  am  speaking  to  a  body  of 
teachers ;  to  whom  the  one  subject  of  primary  interest 
is  the  nature  of  the  material  on  which  they  have  to 
work  —  the  mind,  the  character,  the  conduct  of  those 
whom  they  try  to  teach.  And  the  question  —  the  very 
limited  and  definite  question  —  we  have  to  ask  is,  What 
do  the  latest  doctrines  of  scientific  biology  teach  or 
suggest  to  us?     What  analogies  are  there  between  the 


84  The  Evolution  of  Character 


world  of  the  naturalist  and  the  world  of  the  teacher? 
Can  we  get  from  the  experience  of  the  deep-sea  explorer, 
of  the  physicist  in  his  laboratory,  or  of  the  observer  with 
his  microscope,  any  practical  counsels  which  will  be  of 
service  to  us  in  the  manipulation  of  the  finest  piece  of 
organism  in  the  world,  the  character  of  a  human  being? 
Limits  to  Before  answering  these  questions  we  are  confronted 

ihe  "se  °/    with  one  consideration  which  may  well  make  us  pause. 

analogy.  J  l 

Analogy  is  very  interesting,  but  it  may  prove  very  mis- 
leading. We  are  not  to  mistake  resemblances  for  iden- 
tity. There  is  at  least  one  remarkable  difference  in  the 
conditions  under  which  the  observant  teacher  and  the 
observant  naturalist  must  work.  In  the  animal  and 
vegetable  worlds  the  separate  organs  and  functions  are 
all  susceptible  more  or  less  of  separate  observation  and 
of  separate  treatment.  True,  even  here,  there  is  what 
Darwin  calls  the  "  law  of  concomitant  variations,"  in 
virtue  of  which  change  in  one  part  of  a  complex  structure 
is  accompanied  by  certain  marked  and  often  unexpected 
changes  in  other  parts.  And  this  law  actually  holds 
good  in  a  far  higher  degree  in  the  region  of  mind  than  in 
that  of  organic  matter.  We  frequently  talk  of  attention, 
of  memory,  and  of  imagination,  as  if  they  were  separate 
faculties,  and  when  we  are  discussing  the  nature  of  the 
human  mind  we  may  easily  make  each  faculty  the  subject 
of  a  separate  effort  of  thought.  But  we  cannot  experi- 
ment upon  them  separately,  or  see  them  at  work  inde- 
pendently, as  a  surgeon  can  treat  the  eye  or  the  ear,  or 
as  a  biologist  can  deal  with  a  seedling  or  a  nerve.  The 
brain  is  not  a  congeries  of  cells  with  different  names  and 
uses  each  demanding  separate  treatment.  The  powers 
and  functions  of  the  human  mind  are  so  interwoven,  that 
you  cannot  in  practice  treat  them  apart,  or  strongly 
influence  any  one  of  them  without  exerting  an  important 


CJiaracter  a   Growth  85 

reflex   influence  upon  others.     And  hence  the  need  of 

some  caution  when  we  are  tempted  to  push  too  far  the 

analogy  between  what    goes  on    in    the    hot-house,  the 

zoological   gardens    or    the    biological    laboratory,    and 

what  goes  on  in  the  nursery  or  the  school-room. 

Nevertheless  when  we   have    taken    this    precaution,  Character 

there  is  one  cardinal  point  of  resemblance  between  the  a  ^roZil   ' 
1  not  a 

world  of  the  naturalist  and  the  world  of  the  schoolmaster,  manufac- 
We  are  safe  in  taking  for  certain  this  one  truth,  that'MrA 
human  character,  whether  we  look  at  it  from  its  ethical 
or  from  its  intellectual  side,  is  the  result  of  growth  and 
not  of  manufacture.  It  is  a  living  organism,  and  not  a 
highly  delicate  and  curious  machine.  And  if  we  can 
firmly  grasp  this  truth,  we  shall  find  it  full  of  useful 
suggestion.  Nothing  that  you  can  do  to  your  pupil  is 
of  any  use  unless  it  touches  the  springs  of  his  life.  You 
are  concerned  with  what  he  knozvs,  because  every  fact 
or  truth  which  is  actually  received  and  assimilated  is 
capable  of  developing,  becoming  the  germ  of  other 
knowledge,  and  so  of  forming  and  strengthening  his  in- 
tellectual character.  You  are  concerned  with  what  he 
does,  because  every  act  is  an  exercise  of  power,  and  every 
such  exercise  of  power  helps  to  form  a  habit,  and  to 
make  all  future  efforts  of  a  similar  kind  easier  and  more 
probable.  And  you  are  concerned  with  what  he  feels, 
because  it  is  on  his  tastes  and  preferences,  on  what  he 
likes  and  cares  about,  that  his  power  of  moral  movement 
depends.  Which  of  the  influences  which  surround  him 
shall  ultimately  prove  most  attractive  and  which  of  them 
he  will  resist  —  what  in  fact  will  be  in  his  case  the  kind  of 
natural  selection  which  will  control  his  future  destiny  — 
must  be  determined  in  the  long  run  by  his  likes  and  dis- 
likes, by  the  strength  and  direction  of  such  will-power 
as  he  possesses.     In  all  these  three  ways  the  life  of  the 


86  The  Evolution  of  Character 

human  organism  may  be  affected,  and  its  future  develop- 
ment may  be  aided.  But  observe,  it  is  necessary,  if  this 
is  to  be  done,  that  your  treatment  shall  go  down  deep 
enough  to  touch  the  inner  life.  A  gardener  cannot  rear 
a  variety  of  red  flowers  by  painting  the  petals  red,  or  by 
putting  them  under  a  strong  red  light.  He  must  adopt 
quite  other  methods.  So  if  what  your  scholar  knows  is 
only  impressed  on  him  by  authority,  learned  without 
interest,  received  without  sympathy,  and  accepted  with 
the  intention  of  remembering  it  only  till  the  next  exami- 
nation and  forgetting  it  directly  afterwards,  it  is  not  for 
any  true  purpose  of  development  known  at  all.  And  if 
what  your  scholar  does  at  your  bidding  is  done  reluctantly, 
done  because  you  are  looking,  and  not  intended  to  be 
done  again  when  the  pressure  of  authority  has  been 
removed,  the  act  has  not  helped  to  form  a  habit  and 
has  been  of  no  service  whatever  in  .the  development  of 
character.  So  too  a  feeling  or  emotion  in  favour  of  what 
is  right  is  of  little  or  no  formative  value  if  it  be  merely 
transient.  Unless  it  affects  the  permanent  character  of 
your  scholar's  tastes  and  moral  preferences  it  does 
nothing,  and  your  labour,  in  so  far  as  you  are  seeking 
to  form  in  him  a  strong  and  manly  character,  is  abso- 
lutely thrown  away. 
Intel-  That  which  is  digested  wholly,  says  Coleridge,  and 

lectual       part  Qf  which  js  assimilated  and  part  rejected,  is  food. 

food  and     l  .         . 

digestion.  That  which  is  digested  wholly  and  the  whole  of  which  is 
partly  assimilated  and  partly  not  is  medicine.  That  which 
is  digested  but  not  assimilated  is  poison.  That  which  is 
neither  digested  nor  assimilated  is  mere  obstruction. 

This  is  as  true  in  the  spiritual  and  intellectual  as  in 
the  physical  organism.  What  is  learned  in  such  a  way 
that  is  neither  digested  nor  assimilated  is  not  food  at 
all,  it  is  mere  obstruction,  there  is  no  nourishment  in  it ; 


Punishments  87 


its  presence  disturbs  or  deranges  other  healthy  functions  ; 
it  does  nothing  to  affect  character  or  to  sustain  life. 

Now  in  the  light  of  these  general  reflections,  what  Punisk- 
have  we  to  say  of  punishments?  They  affect  conduct Wl 
certainly.  But  conduct  does  not  make  character  unless 
our  acts  are  habitual,  unless  it  comes  to  pass  that  certain 
forms  of  action  become  by  degrees  more  natural  to 
us,  so  to  speak,  than  others.  Single  isolated  acts  have 
little  or  no  influence  on  the  character.  It  is  the  repeated 
act  —  the  often  repeated  act,  the  act  so  often  repeated 
that  it  becomes  almost  automatic  and  spontaneous, 
which  alone  can  be  said  to  shape  the  future  life  of  the 
man,  and  possibly  to  be  reproduced  in  his  posterity.  We 
may  well  think  of  this  if  we  try  to  inflict  punishment. 
It  may  deter,  it  undoubtedly  does  deter  from  certain 
specific  acts,  so  long  as  the  fear  of  the  punishment  or 
the  watchfulness  of  the  person  who  inflicts  it  lasts.  But 
the  moment  these  are  withdrawn,  the  motive  for  doing  or 
refraining  from  doing  a  given  act  disappears;  and  it  is 
found  that  the  punishment  has  never  touched  the  inner 
life  of  the  pupil  at  all  ;  it  has  done  nothing  to  affect 
the  character  which  will  be  assumed  and  perpetuated  in 
future.  Nay,  perhaps  it  has  done  something.  It  may 
have  roused  a  spirit  of  rebellion  and  reaction,  in  conse- 
quence of  which  the  kind  of  act  which  you  have  checked 
and  punished  will  become  more  habitual  than  before. 

And  what  are  we  to  say  of  the  moral  precepts,  those  Moral 
broad  general  aphorisms  about  moral  conduct,  which  fill  PrccePts- 
so  large  a  space  in  all  good  books,  especially  those  good 
books  that  are  written  for  children?  To  us  who  are 
grown  people,  who  have  had  some  experience  of  life, 
much  of  the  experience  thus  gathered  up  by  careful 
induction  assumes  the  form  of  general  propositions, 
maxims,  rules  of  conduct.     But  of  what  avail  are  these 


88  The  Evolution  of  Character 

to  a  little  child?  He  has  had  none  of  this  experience. 
He  is  concerned  at  present  with  specific  acts,  but  large 
generalizations  about  principles  of  conduct  do  not  affect 
him.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  a  boy  who  was  deterred 
from  quarrelling  because  he  had  written  "  Cancel  ani- 
mosities"  twenty  times  in  his  copy-book?  Do  you 
think  Laertes,  in  his  green  youth,  was  much  impressed 
with  the  aphorisms  of  his  pedantic  old  father, 

(jive  thy  thoughts  no  tongue, 

Nor  any  unproportioned  thought,  his  act? 

Do  you  think  that  any  child  in  a  Sunday  School 
becomes  reverent  and  obedient  because  he  learns  by 
heart  a  formula  enjoining  him  to  "  order  himself  lowly 
and  reverently  before  his  betters"?  The  truth  is  that 
these  universal  maxims  presuppose  a  riper  age,  and  a 
larger  experience,  before  they  can  be  felt  to  have  any 
validity,  nay,  before  they  have  any  meaning.  To  a  few 
prematurely  thoughtful  children  such  maxims  may  be 
intelligible  and  useful.  Of  an  average  child  it  may  be 
affirmed  that  he  knows  something  of  individuals,  and 
can  understand  something  of  his  relations  to  them ;  but 
about  humanity,  about  mankind  as  a  whole,  about  the 
claims  of  society,  he  neither  knows  nor  cares.  Nor  can 
he,  as  a  rule,  appreciate  large  universal  rules  of  conduct  or 
of  human  duty  in  any  sense.  I  can  think  of  only  three 
conditions  under  which  such  general  rules  can  influence 
When  his  character  at  all.  Those  who  enjoin  them  may  follow 
rules  are  them  up  by  such  a  watchful  supervision  of  specific  acts, 
operative,  and  by  such  guarded  arrangements  for  preventing  wrong- 
doing, that  in  time  it  may  become  easier  for  the  scholar 
to  obey  than  to  disobey,  and  the  general  law  of  conduct 
may  fix  itself  on  your  pupil,  not  because  he  has  learned 
it  by  heart,  but  because  he  has  practised  it  by  heart. 
There  is  a  second  condition  on  which  it  is  possible  that 


General  Maxims  often  inoperative  89 

a  universal  rule  or  precept  may  become  operative.  It  is 
that  in  expressing  it  you  have  so  appealed  to  the  intel- 
ligence and  the  conscience  of  the  child,  so  enabled  him 
to  see  its  meaning  or  its  direct  application,  that  he 
recognizes  its  force,  admires  it,  sympathizes  with  your 
motive  in  inculcating  it,  and  makes  up  his  mind  that 
it  will  be  well  with  him  if  through  life  he  obeys  it. 
The  third  possible  condition  under  which  a  general 
maxim  can  be  of  use  is  that  he  who  enforces  it  inspires 
so  much  affection  and  reverence,  that  without  under- 
standing it  fully  or  seeing  its  bearing  on  conduct,  the 
pupil  accepts  it  as  a  matter  of  course.  This  is  the  sort 
of  influence  which  leads  a  man  to  say  in  after  life,  "  Ah, 
I  remember  my  dear  old  master  used  to  tell  us,  '  If  you 
do  not  want  to  be  known  to  do  a  thing,  don't  do  it.'  " 
So  a  general  maxim  of  conduct  may  become  impressed 
on  a  child  by  challenging  his  intelligence,  his  affection, 
or  his  experience.  But  if  it  comes  to  him  in  none  of 
these  three  ways,  if  it  is  only  urged  on  him  by  authority, 
committed  to  memory,  and  enforced  as  an  abstract  ethical 
truth,  it  simply  comes  to  nothing.  It  may  be  very  satis- 
factory to  you  to  hear  it  accurately  recited  or  to  see  it 
written  down  in  a  copy-book.  But  it  has  no  vital  force, 
no  value,  and  for  the  child  at  the  beginning  of  life, 
scarcely  any  interest  or  meaning. 

The  bright,  audacious  Shelley  astonished  his  father 
at  nineteen  by  some  startling  expressions  of  heterodox 
opinion  and  by  shewing  himself  in  flat  rebellion  against 
all  the  conventional  beliefs  and  usages  in  which  he  had 
been  brought  up.  His  father  insisted  on  making  Percy 
read  Paley's  Evidences.  When  young  Coleridge,  in  the 
fervour  of  his  young  republicanism,  had  just  read  Voltaire's 
Philosophical  Dictionary,  and  declared  himself  converted, 
his  schoolmaster,  old  Bowyer  of  Christ's  Hospital,  called 


90  TJic  Evolution  of  Character 

him  into  his  private  room  and  gave  him  a  thrashing.1 
Can  anyone  suppose  for  a  moment  that  in  either  case 
the  boy  was  tamed  or  convinced?  The  remedy  was 
utterly  unadapted  to  the  disorder.  It  was  neither 
nourishing  nor  medicinal.  It  was  rejected.  It  left  the 
patient  heated,  irritated,  and  rebellious,  farther  from 
orthodoxy  than  ever. 
Didactic  Didactic  and  formal  moral  teaching  is  often  strangely 

teaching,  overvalued.  To  those  who  are  unskilled  in  the  art  of 
communicating  truth  to  young  children,  it  appears  the 
most  obvious  and  easy  form  of  instruction.  Nothing 
seems  simpler  than  to  set  a  lesson  containing  precepts  or 
religious  truths  to  be  learned  by  heart.  Yet  it  is  often 
the  least  effective  of  expedients.  For  after  all,  acqui- 
escence is  not  knowledge.  It  is  not  even  opinion,  still 
less  does  it  deserve  to  be  called  faith.  We  may  assent 
to  any  number  of  propositions,  without  being  in  the  least 
degree  the  wiser  or  better  for  such  assent,  if  they  have 
not  secured  the  adhesion  of  the  intellect  or  of  the  moral 
sympathies.  And  such  adhesion  can  only  be  secured 
when  the  proposition  is  brought  into  consciousness  by 
clear  statement,  and  by  an  effort  to  understand  it. 
"Truths,"  says  Coleridge,  "of  all  others  the  most  awful 
and  interesting  are  too  often  considered  as  so  true  that 
they  lose  all  the  power  of  truth,  and  lie  bedridden  in  the 
dormitory  of  the  soul,  side  by  side  with  the  most  despised 
and  exploded  errors."  2 
Experi-  in   seeking   to    ascertain   for   ourselves   what   forms 

Childhood,  °^  instruction  and  discipline  are  really  operative  upon 
the  life  of  a  pupil  and  carry  in  them  the  germs  of 
future  growth  ;  and  on  the  other  hand  what  teaching 
it  is  that  touches  only  the  shell  and  husk  of  his  being, 

1  Biographia  Literaria. 

2  Aids  to  Reflection,  Aphorism  I. 


Experiences  of  Childhood  91 

and  never  penetrates  to  the  sources  of  life  at  all,  we 
do  well  to  recur  more  often  than  we  do  to  our  own 
experience  as  learners.  Those  of  you  who  are  young 
teachers  are  not  so  far  removed  from  childhood  as  to 
have  lost  the  power  to  do  this.  Older  teachers  must 
supply  the  lapse  of  memory  by  imagination  and  experi- 
ence. But  in  one  way  or  another  we  should  seek  to 
put  ourselves  in  the  attitude  of  mind  which  is  occupied 
by  our  pupils,  to  hear  lessons  with  their  ears  and  to  see 
illustrations  with  their  eyes.  The  elementary  teacher  is 
going,  let  us  say,  to  give  a  lesson  on  some  new  fact 
in  Natural  History.  He  gets  together  his  whole  for- 
midable apparatus  of  black-board,  pictures,  diagrams, 
and  specimens.  But  the  testing  question  for  him  is  not 
—  "  How  does  the  sketch  of  this  lesson  look  in  my  notes 
or  on  the  board?  How  will  the  lesson  display  my 
powers  to  the  best  advantage?  In  what  light  will  it 
appear  in  the  eyes  of  the  head  master,  the  inspector,  or 
the  adult  critic?"  but  "What  should  I  have  thought  of 
this  lesson  when  I  was  a  child  sitting  on  that  bench? 
How  would  it  have  impressed  me  ?  How  should  I  have 
liked  it?  How  much  of  it  should  I  have  remembered 
or  cared  to  remember?"  In  like  manner,  it  may  be, 
he  is  about  to  select  a  piece  of  poetry  for  recitation.  He 
is  tempted  to  think  first  of  its  length,  the  appropriateness 
of  its  moral,  the  ease  with  which  it  may  be  explained, 
the  sort  of  exercise  it  will  give  in  elocution  and  in  taste. 
But  it  will  be  well  also  to  put  the  question,  "  How  far 
should  I  have  been  stimulated  and  enriched  if,  at  that 
age,  I  had  learned  the  same  verses?  Would  they  have 
remained  in  my  memory  now?  Should  I,  at  any  time 
in  the  interval,  have  found  my  leisure  brightened  or  my 
thoughts  raised  by  remembering  them?"  That  is  a  very 
valuable  test.     Understand  as  well  as  you  can  contrive  to 


<>/  I'll 
)  oument 


92  The  Evolution  of  Character 

do,  the  learner's  point  of  view,  and  criticise  yourself  from 
that  stand-point.  Ah  !  if  preacher  and  congregation,  if 
teacher  and  class  could  change  places  now  and  then,  anil 
if  those  who  sit  before  us  could  only  frankly  tell  us  what 
they  are  thinking  of  us  and  our  teaching,  what  interesting 
revelations  we  should  obtain  !  Perchance  that  look  of 
dumb  bewilderment  and  vacuity  with  which  we  sometimes 
find  ourselves  confronted,  would,  were  it  to  shape  itself 
into  articulate  utterance,  be  fain  to  find  expression  in 
some  such  words,  as  those  once  used  with  a  very  different 
meaning  :  "  Sir,  thou  hast  nothing  to  draw  with,  and  the 
well  is  deep." 

One  of  the  most  important  of  the  laws  revealed 
in  recent  biological  researches  is  that  of  environment. 
New  variations  and  new  species  of  plants  and  animals 
are  evolved,  and  the  nature  of  their  development  is  largely 
—  though  not  wholly  —  determined  by  the  conditions  in 
which  they  live.  Soil,  light,  climate,  the  nearness  or 
distance  from  other  bodies,  affect  the  growth  of  plants.1 
The  same  conditions  and  many  others  affect  that  of 
animals,  —  whether  there  is  an  abundance  or  a  scarcity 
of  food  within  reach,  whether  the  animal  is  in  a  wild  or 

1  "The  process  of  modification  has  effected  and  is  effecting  decided 
changes  in  all  organisms  subject  to  modifying  influences.  In  succes- 
sive generations  these  changes  continue  until  ultimately  the  new 
conditions  become  the  natural  ones.  In  cultivated  plants,  domes- 
ticated animals,  and  in  the  several  races  of  men  such  alterations  have 
taken  place.  The  degrees  of  difference  so  produced  are  often,  as  in 
dogs,  greater  than  those  on  which  distinctions  of  species  are  in  other 
cases  founded.  The  changes  daily  taking  place  in  ourselves,  the 
facility  that  attends  long  practice,  and  the  loss  of  aptitude  that 
begins  when  practice  ceases,  the  strengthening  of  passions  habitually 
gratified,  and  the  weakening  of  those  habitually  curbed,  the  develop- 
ment of  every  faculty  —  bodily,  moral,  or  intellectual  —  according  to 
the  use  made  of  it,  are  all  explicable  on  this  same  principle."  — 
Edward  Clodd,  Pioneers  of  Evolution,  p.  112. 


The  Lazv  of  environment  93 

domesticated  state,  whether  its  habits  are  solitary  or 
gregarious,  —  all  these  are  circumstances  which  have  to 
be  regarded  in  explaining  the  evolution  of  new  character- 
istics or  of  new  species.  And  it  is  manifest  that  similar 
considerations  cannot  be  absent  when  we  are  trying  to 
trace  the  development  of  human  institutions  or  of  human 
character.  In  past  ages,  one  of  the  problems  of  pro- 
foundest  interest  has  always  been,  "  How  far  are  man's 
character  and  destiny  controlled  by  circumstances,  and 
how  far  is  it  in  his  power  to  control  them  ?  "  The  Greek 
tragedians  were  continually  trying  to  present  this  problem 
in  new  lights,  and  to  invite  their  countrymen  to  reflect 
on  it.  You  have  an  Orestes  or  an  CEdipus  impelled  by 
a  pitiless  Fate  to  the  commission  of  crimes  which  they 
abhorred,  or  a  Prometheus  enduring  unmerited  sufferings 
with  heroic  dignity,  even  though  he  knows  that  the  man 
who  is  to  deliver  him  is  not  yet  born;  and  all  the  while 
the  gods  looking  down  with  sublime  impassiveness,  or 
with  a  pity  near  akin  to  contempt.  The  Greek  hero  has 
no  alternative.  He  must  either  contend  vainly  against  a 
remorseless  fate,  or  must  submit  and  shew  the  world 

How  sublime  a  thing  it  is 
To  suffer  and  be  strong. 

Modern  science  and  experience  are  presenting  to  us  The  con- 
the  same  problem  in  a  different  form.     Mr  Buckle  has  dltion?  "/ 

r  our  life  its 

taken   pains   to   demonstrate    the  uniformity  of  human  determi- 
action  under  given  conditions.     He  shews  you  that  the  "'"!ts  °t 

°  J  char  a,  I,  r 

number  of  murders,  of  suicides,  even  the  proportion  of 
accidents  and  follies,  is  curiously  unvarying  from  year  to 
year.  He  leaves  on  you  the  impression  that,  granted  a 
certain  set  of  conditions,  man's  action  can  pretty  well 
be  predicted,  in  fact  that  he  cannot  do  otherwise  than 
he  does.  Another  philosopher  expounds  the  doctrine 
of  heredity,  and  shews  how  some  people  come  into  the 


94  The  Evolution  of  Character 

world  weighted  with  the  effect  of  the  follies  and  vices  of 
their  ancestors,  and  practically  unable  to  fight  the  battle 
of  life  on  fair  terms  with  their  competitors.  Thus  the 
conditions  of  man  and  of  his  environment  come  to  be 
the  substitute  for  the  cruel  Fate  or  Nemesis  of  Greek 
tragedy ;  and  even  as  the  Athenian  was  brought  to  the 
conviction  that  it  was  vain  to  war  against  the  decrees  of 
the  high  gods,  so  the  man  of  the  nineteenth  century  is 
half  persuaded  by  the  sociologists  to  believe  that  his  life 
and  character  are  moulded  by  conditions  which  he  did 
not  make,  that  he,  too,  is  the  sport  of  Fate  and  of 
circumstance,  and  has  no  responsibility  for  either.  At 
first  sight  this  is  the  most  disheartening  of  all  conclusions. 
One  is  fain  to  rebel  against  it  and  to  say,  "  I  came  into  the 
world  without  my  own  consent.  I  did  not  choose  my 
parents.  I  find  myself  encompassed  by  influences  which 
are  very  unfavourable  to  the  development  of  what  is  best 
in  me,  which  are  shaping  me  into  something  I  do  not 
approve  and  have  not  desired.  I  cannot  fight  against 
these  conditions.  I  succumb  to  them,  and  must  leave 
the  responsibility  to  be  borne  elsewhere." 
How  far  Second  thoughts,  however,  will  go  far  to  modify  these 

these  con-    (Jispiritinfic  conclusions.     Grant  that  we  and  our  children 

ait  ions  are        '  ° 

alterable  are  the  products  to  a  large  extent  of  the  conditions  under 
at  will.  which  we  live.  It  is  at  least  in  our  power  to  alter  those 
conditions.  Say  that  the  amount  of  theft  and  of  drunken- 
ness is  uniform  under  the  existing  social  arrangements. 
Everything  you  do  to  make  those  arrangements  better, 
by  diminishing  temptation,  by  increased  vigilance  in  de- 
tecting crime,  —  every  library  you  open,  every  good  book 
you  cheapen,  every  new  form  of  innocent  outlet  you  can 
find  for  the  natural  activity  and  restlessness  which,  in  the 
absence  of  innocent  exercise,  takes  the  form  of  turbulence 
or  vice,  is  a  new  factor  in  the  problem,  and  makes  the 


The  Moral  Atmosphere  of  a  School  95 

conditions  of  the  life  of  the  next  generation  more  favour- 
able than  those  of  the  present.  Herein  lie  the  solace  and 
the  inspiration  of  all  true  philanthropists.  The  character 
of  our  successors  will  be,  let  us  admit,  determined  not  so 
much  by  our  wishes,  nor  by  our  exhortations.  It  will  be 
largely  the  resultant  of  all  the  powers  and  tendencies  which 
will  make  up  the  conditions  of  their  environment.  Then 
let  us  improve  those  conditions.  That  at  least  is  in  our 
power  to  do  to  some  extent,  for  society  and  for  ourselves. 
Who  can  tell  what  effect  the  multiplication  of  good  schools 
will  have  on  the  next  generation?  A  young  man  finds 
himself  placed  by  the  accident  of  his  birth  in  the  midst 
of  uncongenial  surroundings.  He  cannot  wholly  escape 
from  them  ;  but  he  can  do  something  to  alter  them  for 
the  better.  He  attaches  himself  to  a  society  in  which 
there  is  a  higher  tone  of  thinking  and  of  acting  than  his 
own.  He  joins  a  library,  a  reading  party,  or  a  field 
naturalist's  club.  By  any  one  of  these  acts  he  does  in 
fact  place  himself  in  a  new  environment,  and  gives  some 
of  his  better  faculties  a  new  chance  for  development. 

And  what  is  true  of  a  teacher's  own  life  is  true  in  The  moral 
regard  to  the  life  of  a  school.     Given  a  place  of  instruc-  at!"0SP^erf 

c  l  oj  a  school. 

tion    in   which   there    is    an    unskilled    and   unobservant 

discipline,  and  you  may  safely  predict  that  there  will  be 

a  curious  uniformity  in  the  percentage  of  rebellious  and 

even  of  vicious  acts.     But  alter  the  conditions.     Let  the 

new  teacher  be  wary  and  watchful,  let  him  be  in  sympathy 

with  every  effort  to  do  right ;    let   him   make   carefully 

considered  plans  and  resolutely  adhere  to  them,  and  the 

phenomena  will  be  altered  and  the  proportion  of  wrong 

acts  will  steadily  diminish.     The  character  of  pupils  is 

unconsciously  moulded  by  the  sort  of  moral  atmosphere 

which    is    breathed    in    a    school.       We    inspectors    and 

educational  critics  are  sometimes  laughed  at  for  talking 


g6  The  Evolution  of  Character 

of  the  tone  of  a  school.  This  is,  we  are  told,  an  in- 
tangible entity,  incapable  of  measurement,  not  to  be  set 
down  in  schedules  or  reports.  That  is  very  true.  But 
the  tone  of  a  school  is  something  very  real  nevertheless. 
It  means,  as  I  understand  it,  the  prevailing  spirit  of  the 
place,  its  cheerfulness,  the  mutual  helpfulness  of  its 
members,  its  love  of  work,  its  orderly  freedom,  its  well- 
directed  ambition,  its  scorn  of  meanness'  or  subterfuge  ; 
the  public  opinion  of  an  organized  body  of  fellow- 
workers,  all  in  their  several  degrees  helping  one  another 
to  fulfil  the  highest  purposes  of  a  school.  The  scholar 
who  enters  a  community  favourably  conditioned  in  these 
respects,  and  who  inhales  its  atmosphere,  is  in  a  training_ 
school  of  virtue  and  of  self-knowledge,  whatever  may 
happen  to  be  the  subjects  taught  or  professed  in  it. 
Years  hence  the  man  may  indeed  look  back  and  say, 
I  could  not  recall  any  lesson  I  learned  in  that  school 
in  the  form  in  which  I  learned  it ;  but  I  shall  all  my 
life  feel  grateful  for  the  bright  and  encouraging  example 
of  the  master,  for  the  strenuous  and  honest  spirit  in 
which  work  was  done,  for  the  intellectual  stimulus  which 
the  place  afforded,  for  the  high  ideal  of  duty  and  of 
honour  which  dominated  all  its  work.  Let  those  of  us 
who  are  teachers,  now  and  then  criticise  ourselves  and 
our  schools  from  this  point  of  view.  Let  us  ask  our- 
selves not  only,  What  do  these  pupils  learn,  how  do  they 
succeed  in  examinations,  what  triumphs  do  they  win? 
but  also,  What  sort  of  influences  are  those  which,  though 
they  work  unconsciously,  make  the  moral  environment  of 
the  learner,  and  will  determine  his  future  growth  ? 
Influence  Nor  will  a  true  teacher  ever  lose  sight  of  the  fact 
°fth?  ,      that  the  most  important  of  the  factors  that  make   up 

teacher  s  ,         .  .        ,  .  ,  ■  ,r       t-,, 

personal     this   moral  and  spiritual   environment    is   himself.      1  he 
character.  scnooi  is  influenced  not  only  by  what  he  says  and  does, 


Natural  Selection  97 

but  by  what  he  is,  by  his  tastes,  his  preferences,  his 
bearing,  his  courtesy,  the  breadth  of  his  sympathy,  the 
largeness  and  fulness  of  his  life.  Boys  do  not  respect 
their  master's  attainments  unless  they  are  sure  that  he 
knows  a  great  deal  more  than  he  undertakes  to  teach. 
These  things  are  not  talked  about  in  a  school,  but  they 
are  felt.  So  his  first  duty  is  to  cultivate  himself,  to  give 
full  play  to  all  that  is  best  and  worthiest  in  his  character, 
before  he  can  hope  to  cultivate  others  and  bring  out 
what  is  best  and  worthiest  in  them. 

And  this  reminds  us  of  what  is,  after  all,  the  cardinal  Natural 
article  in  the  Darwinian  hypothesis  —  the  doctrine  oiSt 
natural  selection.  Animals  and  plants  are  indeed  in- 
fluenced by  surrounding  conditions ;  but  from  among 
those  conditions  there  is  in  almost  every  organism  a 
selective  power  ;  so  that  the  nature  of  the  growth  is  more 
influenced  by  some  of  those  conditions  than  by  others. 
A  flower  turns  towards  the  light,  a  climbing  plant  stretches 
forth  its  tendrils  in  the  direction  in  which  strength  and 
sustenance  can  be  had.  The  organs  of  many  an  animal 
become  in  successive  generations  better  and  better 
adapted  to  its  wants,  by  means  of  the  selection  from 
surrounding  conditions  of  those  best  fitted  for  its  own 
needs  and  development.  Slight  variations  of  form,  of 
structure,  or  of  colour  occur  from  time  to  time  ;  those  of 
them  which  are  most  suitable  and  useful  are  accumulated 
and  transmitted  to  successive  generations  ;  and  it  is  found 
that  those  organisms  which  have  been  thus  developed 
and  improved  have  a  better  chance  than  others  of 
survival  after  the  struggle  for  existence.  Sometimes  this 
natural  selection  operates  in  a  mysterious  way,  almost 
automatically  and  without  conscious  volition  at  all.  The 
woodpecker  or  the  mistletoe  undergoes  variations  by 
which  its  structure  is  gradually  adapted  to  the  various 
H 


98  The  Evolution  of  Character 

circumstances  of  its  existence.  In  regard  to  the  plumage 
of  birds,  the  perpetuation  of  particular  colours  is  due  to 
something  more  like  conscious  preference,  and  is  ex- 
plained by  Darwin's  well-known  phrase,  sexual  selection. 
But  in  the  case  of  those  organisms  which  are  useful  to 
man,  there  has  often  been  intentional  selection.  The 
breed  of  race-horses  has  been  improved  from  time  to 
time  by  the  selection  of  the  fleetest.  The  gardener  finds 
out  the  character  of  the  soil  and  other  conditions  best 
fitted  to  rear  plants  possessing  the  peculiar  qualities 
which  have  the  highest  commercial  value.  He  wants,  for 
example,  to  find  which  varieties  of  peach  will  best  resist 
mildew  ;  what  kinds  of  vine  culture  are  best  fitted  to  with- 
stand the  deadly  attack  of  the  phylloxera,  and  with  this 
view  he  tries  various  experiments  in  cross-fertilization 
and  in  culture.  Darwin  describes  one  very  significant 
experiment  tried  with  much  success  at  the  time  of  the 
prevalence  of  the  potato  disease.  A  farmer  reared  a 
great  number  of  seedlings,  exposed  them  all  to  infection, 
observed  the  effect,  then  ruthlessly  destroyed  all  that 
suffered,  saved  those  which  succeeded  best  in  resisting 
the  infection,  and  then  repeated  the  process.  In  this 
way,  he  believed  it  possible  to  rear  a  new  variety 
of  this  vegetable  which  would  resist  the  attacks  of 
disease  more  successfully  than  any  variety  previously 
known. 

Now  to  the  innumerable  phenomena  of  this  kind  in 
the  world  of  the  naturalist,  is  there  anything  analogous 
in  the  world  with  which  you  and  I  are  chiefly  concerned 
—  the  world  of  human  experience  and  training?  Much 
every  way.  It  is  certain  that  man's  powers  and  faculties 
may,  by  due  cultivation,  be  strengthened  and  transmitted 
to  posterity.  It  is  certain  also  that  of  the  numerous 
conditions  and  circumstances  that  encompass  a  human 


Conscious  selection  of  fit  conditions  99 

life,  some  are  favourable  and  some  are  unfavourable  to 
the  development  of  what  is  best  in  it ;  and  that  it  is 
possible  by  the  selection  of  what  is  favourable  and  the 
rejection  of  what  is  unfavourable,  a  people,  a  nation,  a 
race,  a  single  being  may  gradually  improve.  But  what  is 
more  important  than  all,  man  is,  so  far  as  we  know,  the 
only  being  in  the  universe  that  knows  anything  of  this 
law,  or  is  able  consciously  to  use  his  power  of  selection 
with  a  distinct  moral  purpose.  I  say  "  so  far  as  we 
know,"  for  it  is  right  to  be  guarded  here  against  un- 
verified assumptions.  As  Sydney  Smith  once  said,  "  The 
lower  animals  are  at  a  disadvantage,  since  they  have  no 
lecturers  to  discourse  on  our  faculties."  I  wish  they  had. 
It  would  be  worth  something  if  we  could  have  only  five 
minutes'  insight  into  the  interior  of  a  dog's  mind,  and 
learn  what  view  he  takes  of  us,  and  of  the  universe. 
But  in  the  absence  of  evidence  to  the  contrary,  we  are  at 
liberty  to  say  that  to  man  alone  is  it  given  to  use  the  law 
of  natural  selection  with  a  real  forecast  of  its  meaning 
and  tendency,  and  that  while  with  the  lower  animals 
there  is  the  struggle  for  mere  existence,  it  is  given  only 
to  him  to  struggle  intentionally  after  a  higher  and  better 
existence  both  for  himself  and  for  posterity. 

Let  us  view  the  bearing  of  these  combinations  on  the  Conscious 
development  of  human  character,  and  especially  on  our  {{    il°"  f? 

1  ,<  J  the  fittest 

own  efforts  after  self-improvement.  I  speak  in  the  presence  conditions. 
of  some  young  teachers,  who  have  very  recently  taken 
upon  themselves  the  perilous  responsibility  of  managing 
their  own  life  and  fashioning  their  career.  Well,  you  find 
yourself  surrounded  by  a  variety  of  conditions,  and  you 
know  that  some  of  them  are  favourable  and  that  some  are 
hostile  to  the  development  in  you  of  that  character  which 
you  wish  to  form.  Without  entering  into  the  ancient 
and  thorny  controversy  about  the  freedom  of  the  will, 


IOO  The  Evolution  of  Character 

everyone  knows  that  it  is  in  his  power  to  choose  the  good 
and  to  refuse  the  evil.  "See,"  said  Moses,  "I  have  set 
before  you  this  day  life  and  good,  and  death  and  evil. 
Therefore  choose  life,  that  ye  may  live."  And  this  is  as 
true  now  as  in  the  patriarchal  days.  You  are  not  bound 
to  drift  along  in  life,  succumbing  merely  to  the  strongest 
and  nearest  of  these  conditions.  It  is  at  least  in  your 
power  to  choose  by  which  of  these  you  mean  to  be  most 
influenced,  and  which  of  them  it  will  be  best  to  resist. 
You  have  access  to  many  books.  You  will  not  read 
them  all.  But  you  know  well  that  there  are  some 
books  from  the  perusal  of  which  you  rise  refreshed  and 
strengthened,  with  higher  aims  and  purer  resolutions ; 
and  there  are  others,  from  which  you  rise  with  a  sense 
that  you  have  been  in  a  stifling,  heated,  and  unwhole- 
some atmosphere,  and  which  leave  you  with  weakened 
faculties  or  a  lower  ideal  of  life.  You  are  surrounded 
by  acquaintances  and  associations.  They  are  not  of 
your  making.  You  are  not  responsible  for  this  environ- 
ment. But  you  are  responsible  for  the  selection  you 
make.  Among  those  with  whom  you  are  thrown  into 
contact,  there  are  some  whose  influence  you  feel  to  be  help- 
ful and  ennobling ;  in  whose  presence  your  best  qualities 
are  called  out  into  exercise.  There  are  others  from  whom 
you  get  no  help,  and  in  whose  presence  there  is  noth- 
ing to  encourage  your  highest  aspirations  or  your  most 
strenuous  efforts.  It  is  by  deliberately  stretching  forth 
the  tendrils,  so  to  speak,  of  your  own  nature,  by  clinging 
to  the  best  of  what  is  within  your  reach,  and  shrinking 
from  that  which  is  worst,  that  you  are  able,  as  the  Bible 
says,  to  "  go  from  strength  to  strength  "  ;  and  to  make 
each  step  in  life  a  new  point  of  departure  for  your  social 
and  spiritual  improvement.  It  is  a  trite  thing  to  remind 
you  of  Shakespeare's  well-worn  comparison  of  the  world 


Degeneration  I  o  I 

to  a  stage,  and  ourselves,  the  men  and  women  in  it,  to 
the  players.  But  I  do  it  for  the  purpose  of  quoting  to 
you  a  remark  of  George  Eliot  which  is  not  trite,  but 
which  seems  to  me  to  have  a  profound  meaning.  "  How 
happy,"  she  says,  "  is  that  man  who  is  called  on  to  play 
his  part  in  the  presence  of  an  audience  which  habitually 
demands  his  best."  i  Now  among  the  surrounding  con- 
ditions which  determine  the  growth  of  a  character,  one 
of  the  most  potent  is  the  character  of  the  audience  before 
which  our  work  is  done.  Some  of  us  are  compelled  to 
do  our  work  under  the  fierce  light  of  public  criticism — • 
let  us  be  thankful  if  it  is  so  —  but  many  others  live  and 
move  in  the  midst  of  a  sheltered  and  uncritical  community. 
It  is  one  of  the  special  dangers  of  a  teacher's  calling  that 
many  hours  of  every  day  are  necessarily  passed  by  him 
in  the  presence  of  a  young  audience,  which  not  only  does 
not  demand  from  him  his  best,  but  will  often  be  very  well 
content  with  his  worst.  We  are  not  in  this  respect  the 
masters  of  our  own  circumstances.  But  within  certain 
limits,  it  is  in  our  power  to  choose  the  witnesses  of  our 
own  work ;  and  unless  some  part  of  that  work  at  least 
is  performed  under  the  eye  of  those  who  challenge  the 
exercise  of  our  best  and  highest  powers,  we  may  be  sure 
that  those  powers  will  either  be  imperfectly  exercised  or 
not  exercised  at  all. 

For  there  is  in  Nature  a  law  of  degeneration  working  Degen- 
side  by  side  with  the  law  of  development.  An  organ  or eratlon- 
a  faculty  may,  by  constant  exercise,  be  strengthened  and 
perpetuated  ;  or  by  continuous  neglect  and  disuse  it  may 
in  time  perish  altogether.  If  you  abstain  for  a  time  from 
the  exercise  of  any  power  you  possess,  you  find  ere  long 
that  this  power  is  well  nigh  incapable  of  exercise.  There 
are  in  the  human  organism,  as  in  that  of  many  inferior 

1  Middle  march. 


102  The  Evolution  of  diameter 

creatures,  traces  and  survivals  of  organs  once  active,  but 
now  existing  only  in  a  rudimentary  state.  I  can,  e.g.,  by 
an  effort  of  will,  move  my  eyelids  tand  the  skin  of  my 
forehead  ;  but  I  cannot  in  like  manner  twitch  or  move 
the  skin  of  the  scalp  at  the  back  of  my  head.  Yet  there 
are  traces  of  a  muscular  apparatus ; — the  panniculus  ear- 
nosus  —  by  which  other  parts  of  the  skin  were  voluntarily 
moveable,  and  probably  were  moved  by  some  remote 
ancestor  of  mine.  For  centuries,  however,  my  fore- 
fathers have  failed  to  make  use  of  this  apparatus,  and 
now  it  is  practically  dead.  I  could  not  bring  it  into 
play  if  I  would. 
Unused  Now  there  is  much  that  is  analogous  to  this  in  the 

faculties,  history  of  our  own  minds,  and  in  the  mental  and  spiritual 
phenomena  around  us.  We  sit  down  to  read  a  novel 
or  a  newspaper.  The  eye  glances  hastily  down  the  page. 
All  that  we  want  to  gain  we  acquire  in  the  most  cursory 
way  and  without  any  consciousness  of  effort.  Let  us 
suppose  we  do  this  for  a  few  days  together,  and  that  then 
we  try  to  take  in  hand  a  book  which  demands  real 
intellectual  exertion  —  say  Sir  William  Hamilton's  Dis- 
sertations or  John  Stuart  Mill's  Political  Economy.  The 
eye  traverses  the  page  at  the  same  rate  as  before,  and  we 
find  at  the  end  that  we  have  gained  no  idea  whatever. 
We  have  to  brace  our  minds  to  a  real  effort  of  attention, 
and  to  begin  again.  We  are  startled  to  discover  that  the 
power  of  concentrating  the  whole  of  our  mental  forces 
on  one  subject  at  a  time,  and  of  following  the  train  of  a 
difficult  piece  of  argument  seems  for  the  time  to  have 
departed  from  us.  At  any  rate  we  know  well  that  it  has 
been  enfeebled  for  want  of  exercise,  and  that  if  we  go 
on  much  longer  reading  nothing  but  what  is  easy  and 
agreeable,  that  power  will  perish  altogether,  beyond 
reach  of  recovery.     Nature  will  not  be  trifled  with.     She 


Progression  or  retrogression  103 

gives  us  powers  and  faculties  ;  but  she  does  not  undertake 
to  keep  them  bright  and  vigorous  and  always  fit  for  use. 
An  unused  faculty  becomes  in  time  an  unusable  faculty. 
So  the  practical  conclusion  for  all  those  who  care  about 
the  regulation  of  their  own  minds  is,  that  even  in  miscel- 
laneous reading  there  should  be  some  subject  or  some 
book  which  challenges  the  employment  of  all  the  best 
powers,  and  forces  the  reader  to  bring  his  whole  strength 
to  bear  in  understanding  it.  Otherwise  he  will  be  doing 
injustice  to  his  own  faculties  and  slowly  but  surely 
reducing  them  to  the  rank  of  rudimentary  organs  in  the 
animal  structure,  interesting  but  wholly  worthless  sur- 
vivals of  what  once  might  have  been  potent  instruments, 
but  will  never  be  so  again. 

In  the  natural  world,  it  must  be  remembered,  evolution  Progres- 
does  not  always  imply  progress  towards  perfection.  It*'!/",'-' 
may  mean  progress  in  the  other  direction.  There  is,  degression. 
Mr  Huxley  once  said,  "  a  constant  re-adjustment  of  the 
organism  in  adaptation  to  new  conditions  ;  but  it  depends 
on  the  nature  of  those  conditions,  whether  the  direction 
taken  by  those  modifications  is  upward  or  downward. 
Retrogressive  change  is  quite  as  possible  as  progressive 
change."  And  this  is  true  and  still  more  manifest  in  the 
moral  world.  Hence  every  power  with  which  teachers 
are  concerned,  as  a  part  of  the  organic  equipment  of 
their  pupils,  is  constantly  undergoing  change  in  the 
direction  either  of  development  or  deterioration.  The 
process  of  evolution  in  a  human  character  never  stops. 
Attention,  memory,  observation  and  reasoning  power, 
reverence,  affection,  aspiration  after  better  things  —  all 
the  attributes  which  you  want  to  see  exemplified  in  the 
life  of  your  pupils,  are  day  by  day  either  enfeebled  or 
strengthened  by  what  happens  in  your  school.  You 
have,  it  may  be,  nothing  in  your  course  of  studies  which 


104  The  Evolution  of  CJtaractcr 

specially  cultivates  observation  —  the  art  of  seeing  care- 
fully, noting  resemblances  and  differences,  and  describing 
afterwards  with  perfect  accuracy  what  has  been  seen. 
For  all  the  higher  purposes  of  education,  it  matters  very 
little  what  kind  of  natural  objects  are  selected  with  a 
view  to  the  proper  exercise  of  this  faculty.  Flowers  in  a 
field,  trees  in  a  forest,  pictures  in  a  gallery,  statues  in 
a  cathedral,  machines  in  a  factory,  or  shop  windows  in 
High  Street,  would  all  serve  the  purpose,  if  only  the 
power  of  seeing  clearly,  and  of  knowing  well  what  had 
and  what  had  not  been  seen,  were  once  encouraged.  But 
a  school  course  which  includes  no  one  item  designed 
specially  to  cultivate  this  one  faculty,  is  seriously  deficient 
as  a  means  of  training,  however  much  Latin  or  mathe- 
matics or  other  useful  knowledge  has  been  gained.  The 
boy  brought  up  in  such  a  school  suffers  from  the  slow 
deterioration  of  his  observant  faculty,  and  becomes  a  less 
accurate  and  trustworthy  person  for  the  rest  of  his  life. 

It  is  not  a  little  curious  to  notice  that  the  life  of 
Darwin  himself  illustrates  the  way  in  which  certain 
mental  powers  and  aptitudes  degenerate  and  become 
useless.  In  early  life  he  enjoyed  poetry,  and  read 
Thomson,  Byron,  Scott  and  Shelley  with  genuine  delight, 
but  the  taste  for  poetry  gradually  disappeared.  He 
was  once  fond  of  Shakespeare,  especially  of  the  historical 
plays,  but  in  his  old  age  he  found  the  same  plays  "  so 
intolerably  dull  that  they  nauseated  him."  Long  after, 
he  mourned  over  these  limitations  and  of  the  loss  which 
he  had  thus  sustained  : 

"  This  curious  and  lamentable  loss  of  the  higher  aesthetic  tastes 
is  all  the  odder,  as  books  #  on  history,  biographies  and  travels 
(independently  of  any  scientific  facts  they  may  contain)  and  essays 
on  all  sorts  of  subjects  interest  me  as  much  as  ever  they  did.  My 
mind  seems  to  have  become  a  machine  for  grinding  general  laws  out 


The  law  of  divergence  105 

of  large  collections  of  facts,  but  why  this  should  have  caused  the 
atrophy  of  that  part  of  the  brain  alone  on  which  the  higher  tastes 
depend,  I  cannot  conceive.  A  man  with  a  mind  more  highly 
organized  or  better  constituted  than  mine  would  not,  I  suppose, 
have  thus  suffered,  and  if  I  had  to  live  my  life  again  I  would  have 
made  a  rule  to  read  some  poetry,  and  listen  to  some  music  at  least 
once  every  week,  for  perhaps  the  parts  of  my  brain  now  atrophied 
would  thus  have  been  kept  active  through  use.  The  loss  of  these 
tastes  is  a  loss  of  happiness  and  may  possibly  be  injurious  to  the 
intellect  and  more  probably  to  the  moral  character  by  enfeebling 
the  emotional  part  of  our  nature."  1 

There  are  no  facts  more  familiar  to  the  student  of  The  law  of 
evolution  than  those  which  are  grouped  together  by  dtvergence 
Darwin  under  what  he  calls  the  law  of  divergence.  Aandani- 
plot  of  land  will  yield  a  greater  weight  if  cropped  with  "Ulls< 
several  species  of  grass  than  with  one  or  two  species 
only.  "  An  organism  becomes  more  perfect  and  more 
fitted  to  survive,  when  by  division  of  labour  the  different 
functions  of  life  are  performed  by  different  organs.  In 
the  same  way  a  species  becomes  more  efficient  and 
better  able  to  survive,  when  different  sections  of  the 
species  become  differentiated  so  as  to  fulfil  different 
functions.  *  *  *  The  more  diversified  the  descendants 
from  any  one  species  become  in  structure,  constitution 
and  habit,  by  so  much  will  they  be  better  enabled  to 
seize  on  many  and  widely  diversified  places  in  the  polity 
of  nature,  and  so  be  enabled  to  increase  in  numbers." 
"  In  the  general  economy  of  any  land,  the  more  widely 
and  perfectly  the  animals  are  diversified  for  different 
habits  of  life,  so  will  a  greater  number  of  individuals  be 
capable  of  supporting  themselves.  A  set  of  animals 
with  their  organization  but  little  diversified  could  hardly 
compete  with  a  set  more  perfectly  diversified  in  structure. 

1  Darwiii's  Life  and  Letters.     Autobiographical  Chapter. 


106  The  Evolution  of  CJiaractcr 

It  may  be  doubted,  for  instance,. whether  the  Australian 
marsupials,  which  are  divided  into  groups  differing  but 
little  from  each  other,  and  feebly  representing  our  car- 
nivorous ruminant  and  rodent  mammals,  can  success- 
fully compete  with  these  well-developed  orders.  In  the 
Australian  mammals  we  see  the  process  of  diversification 
in  an  early  and  incomplete  stage  of  development."  1 
and  in  In  this  respect  the  history  of  the  human   race   has 

soaal  in-    cioseiy  resembled  that  of  animals  and  plants.     "During 

stitutions,  J  r  o 

the  period  in  which  the  earth  has  been  peopled,  the 
human  organism  has  grown  more  heterogeneous  among 
the  civilized  natives  of  the  species,  and  the  species  as  a 
whole  has  been  made  more  heterogeneous  by  the  multi- 
plication of  races  and  the  differentiation  of  these  races 
from  each  other."  We  may  see  this  in  comparing 
primitive  and  savage  races  with  those  which  are  more 
civilized.  In  the  former,  life  is  very  monotonous.  The 
men  hunt  and  kill,  they  build  huts  all  of  one  pattern, 
the  women  perform  certain  household  duties,  one  day  is 
like  another ;  one  family  like  another.  "  Each  portion 
of  the  community  performs  the  same  duties  with  every 
other  portion,  much  as  each  slice  of  the  polyp's  body  is 
alike  stomach,  muscle,  skin  and  lungs.  Even  the  chiefs, 
in  whom  a  tendency  towards  separateness  of  function 
first  appears,  still  retain  their  similarity  to  the  rest  in 
economic  respects.  The  next  stage  is  distinguished  by 
a  segregation  of  these  social  units  into  a  few  distinct 
classes  —  warriors,  priests,  or  slaves.  A  farther  advance 
is  seen  in  the  sundering  of  the  labourers  into  different 
castes  having  special  occupations,  as  among  the  Hindoos. 
From  these  inferior  types  of  society  up  to  our  own  com- 
plicated  and   more    perfect  one,  the  progress  has  ever 

1  Origin  of  Species,  p.  40. 


Special  aptitudes  and  tastes  107 

been  of  the  same  nature."1  Thus  the  whole  tendency  of 
civilization  is  towards  diversity.  New  forms  of  human 
activity  and  ambition,  new  styles  of  building,  new  occu- 
pations, new  interests,  come  into  view.  The  world 
becomes  enriched  by  the  multiplication  of  new  types  of 
character,  of  taste,  of  employment,  and  of  intellectual 
life.  Variation  begets  variation.  I  do  not  think  that 
Tennyson's  is  a  true  forecast  when  he  says  that 

"  The  individual  withers  and  the  world  is  more  and  more." 

Uniformity,  whether  of  manners,  of  pursuits,  of  conduct, 
or  of  belief,  is  not  the  goal  towards  which  we  are  tending ; 
nor,  if  we  consider  the  matter  rightly,  is  it  the  goal  to- 
wards which  we  should  wish  to  tend.  The  resources  of 
Nature  are  not  exhausted.  In  the  moral  and  spiritual 
world,  as  in  the  world  of  outward  nature,  there  is  yet 
room  for  the  development  of  new  forms  of  beauty  and  of 
worthiness,  far  transcending  any  that  have  hitherto  been 
known  or  even  suspected. 

Now   in   view   of  this   universal   experience,  let   us  and  in  in- 
consider  for  a  moment  what  should  be  the  attitude  of  a  lc,,e'-!lial 

character. 

teacher's  mind  towards  the  scholars  who  surround  him 
and  towards  their  varied  idiosyncrasies  and  types  of 
character.  Is  he  to  think  it  a  high  triumph  to  be  able 
to  say,  "  The  boys  in  my  school  or  in  my  house  are  all 
of  one  mind.  They  all  take  an  interest  in  my  pet 
subject;  they  have  all  accepted  my  creed,  they  all  have 
the  cachet,  the  stamp  of  character  which  I  admire  most 
and  which  I  have  sought  to  impress  upon  them "  ? 
That  after  all  seems  a  poor  sort  of  professional  success. 
Subject  of  course  to  those  general  conditions  as  to 
instruction   and    discipline  which  apply  to  all  scholars 

1  Herbert  Spencer,  Social  Statics. 


io8 


The  Evolution  of  diameter 


Special 
aptitudes 
and  tastes. 


alike,  the  more  varied  the  tastes,  the  aptitudes,  and 
even  the  opinions  of  those  scholars  are,  the  better. 
With  the  voice  of  all  nature  as  his  guide,  the  wise 
schoolmaster  will  be  less  anxious  to  enforce  on  his 
pupils  the  truth  as  he  knows  it  than  to  encourage  in 
them  the  habit  of  veracity,  the  spirit  of  honest  enquiry  ; 
the  openness  and  fairness  of  mind  which  will  enable 
them  to  recognize  and  to  welcome  all  truth,  whatever 
form  it  may  take,  and  even  to  discover  new  truths, 
hitherto  unsuspected.  The  measure  of  his  success  and 
of  the  degree  in  which  as  a  teacher  he  is  enriching  the 
world  and  posterity,  is  the  amount  of  variation  in  the 
types  of  ability  and  goodness  which  are  developed 
among  his  pupils.  No  doubt  it  is  very  pleasant  and 
flattering  to  the  natural  man  to  find  one's  own  favourite 
ideal  of  excellence  reproduced  in  one's  scholars.  But 
the  best  teachers  are  those  who  recognize  the  fact  that 
there  are  other  possible  forms  of  excellence  not  con- 
templated in  their  own  programme,  and  who  rejoice  to 
find  any  new  and  unexpected  manifestations  of  the 
presence  of  exceptional  powers. 

I  know  how  difficult  it  is  for  a  hard-worked  teacher 
with  a  large  class  to  concern  himself  much  with  the 
special  aptitudes  of  individual  scholars.  I  know  how 
convenient  it  is  to  find  all  our  good  scholars  good  in 
our  own  way;  and  all  our  clever  scholars  clever  in  doing 
the  work  which  we  prescribe.  Eccentricity,  dreaminess, 
indulgence  in  fancies  and  in  impossible  ideals  —  these  are 
apt  to  be  troublesome  phenomena  to  a  teacher  and  to 
disturb  his  plans.  But  they  may  nevertheless  be  the 
very  best  part  of  the  equipment  of  the  young  soul.  They 
may  perchance  be  indications  of  God-given  power  and 
genius,  destined,  in  their  after  fulfilment,  to  effect  great 
ends,  which  are  beyond  our  ken.     Let  us  not  discourage 


Hoiv  far  tJicy  sJiould  be  encouraged  1 09 

or  repress  them.  One  of  the  most  affectionate  parents 
of  whom  history  has  preserved  a  record  once  said,  as 
you  will  remember,  on  an  occasion  on  which  her  child 
seemed  to  be  entering  on  a  line  of  conduct  which  she 
had  not  planned  for  him,  "  Son,  why  hast  thou  thus  dealt 
with  us?  behold,  we  have  sought  thee  sorrowing."  And 
then,  as  you  know,  came  the  grave  and  tender  rebuke  : 
"How  is  it  that  ye  sought  me?  wist  ye  not  that  I 
must  be  about  my  Father's  business?"  "Our  Father's 
business  !  "  What  boundless  possibilities  of  hope  and 
energy,  of  high  endeavour  and  noble  achievement  are 
comprised  in  that  simple  phrase  !  How  far  its  meaning 
transcends  any  conceivable  programme  of  life  which  the 
wisest  teacher  or  parent  can  devise  ! 

The  practical  conclusion  from  these  considerations  How  far 
is  that  we  should  try  to  give  to  each  of  the  varied  powers  "?  s/l0ll!(i 
and  aptitudes  of  pupils — whether  they  have  been  already  couraged. 
disclosed  or  are  yet  latent — a  good  chance  of  healthy 
life.  Herein  lies  the  justification  of  the  American  plan 
of  '  elective  studies ' ;  the  multiplication  of  different 
alternative  departments  or  triposes  in  which  a  degree 
may  be  taken  in  our  English  Universities ;  and  the 
establishment  of  modern  sides  in  our  public  schools. 
They  all  help  the  differentiation  of  faculties  and  of 
types  of  character.  To  this  end  a  teacher  has  first  of  all 
to  take  care  that  his  ordinary  course  of  instruction  in- 
cludes for  every  scholar  the  rudiments  of  language,  of 
mathematics,  and  of  physical  science,  and  some  form  of 
aesthetic  or  art  culture  ;  then  as  soon  as  special  prefer- 
ence reveals  itself,  he  should  encourage  the  adoption  — 
though  not  the  exclusive  adoption  —  of  the  chosen  line. 
And  for  the  rest,  it  is  well  to  surround  and  supplement 
the  school  life  with  as  many  and  varied  encourage- 
ments to  wholesome  activity  as  possible.     Athletic  clubs, 


1 1  o  The  Evolution  of  Character 

dramatic  and  musical  societies,  field  excursions,  a  maga- 
zine, a  workshop,  a  discussion  class,  a  French  conversa- 
tion class,  a  sketching  club — all  these  have  their  use; 
nearly  all  of  them  can  easily  be  provided  in  a  great 
boarding  school,  and  some  of  them  are  found  to  work 
admirably  in  day  schools  of  different  grades.  Of  course 
no  boy  will  be  attracted  to  them  all ;  but  every  one  of 
them  is  a  legitimate  outlet  for  mental  activity,  and  for 
the  taste  and  natural  preference  of  some  pupil  or  other. 
We  need  not  take  too  much  pains  to  determine  these 
preferences  nor  feel  disheartened  when  even  our  favourite 
pupils  are  attracted  most  to  those  particular  objects 
which  seem  to  us  to  be  least  valuable  or  appropriate. 
Let  us  take  care  only  that  all  the  forms  of  intellectual 
activity  which  are  placed  within  the  reach  of  a  pupil  are 
in  themselves  healthy  and  free  from  evil,  and  then  let  the 
law  of  natural  selection  operate  freely.  Congratulate 
yourself  when  you  find  him  showing  a  genuine  interest  in 
anything.  Despair  only  when  you  find  him  interested  in 
nothing.  For  then  indeed  there  must  be  some  serious 
defect  in  your  plans  or  your  influence,  and  both  need  to 
be  amended.  We  are  safe  at  least  in  deducing  this  one 
conclusion  from  the  teaching  of  natural  history  —  that 
a  human  character,  like  other  organisms,  thrives  best 
when  exposed  to  variable  conditions,  for  then  only  has  it 
a  chance  of  selecting  those  which  are  most  favourable  to 
the  development  of  what  is  best  and  fittest  in  and  for 
itself. 
Eccentric-  But  while  urging  on  you  the  duty  of  encouraging 
l'y-  varieties  of  character   and    leaving   full   scope    for   the 

exercise  of  special  gifts  I  would  not  have  you  try  to 
stimulate  eccentricity  or  to  aim  at  the  production  of 
abnormal  phenomena  among  your  scholars.  Monstrosi- 
ties are  nearly  always  sterile.     A  giant  or  a  dwarf,  or  a 


The  promise  of  the  future  1 1 1 

two-headed  nightingale,  is  an  amusing  —  nay  even  an 
interesting  phenomenon,  but  is  in  no  wise  an  exemplar. 
An  Admirable  Crichton,  a  John  Stuart  Mill,  who  could 
read  Plato  at  eight,  a  George  Bidder,  the  calculating  boy, 
who  could  mentally  extract  the  cube  root  of  a  line  of  ten 
figures,  are  exceptional.  They  are  not  types  which  you 
desire  to  reproduce.  Natura  non  facit  saltum.  It  is 
not  by  leaps  and  bounds,  or  by  the  occasional  pro- 
duction of  prodigies,  that  the  progress  of  the  race  is  to  be 
attained.  It  is  the  healthy,  well-nurtured  boy,  enabled 
and  helped  by  means  of  circumstance  and  training  to 
become  a  little  better  than  his  father,  who  is  most  likely 
in  his  time  to  become  the  parent  of  something  better 
still.  It  is  disputed  among  naturalists,  whether  acquired 
qualities  are  transmissible  by  inheritance.  But  whether 
this  is  so  or  not  in  the  domain  of  organic  nature,  it  is 
certainly  true  in  the  realm  of  the  philosopher  and  the 
teacher,  and  in  relation  to  human  character.  There  is 
a  sense  in  which  all  the  scholars  who  come  within  the 
sphere  of  your  influence  may  be  regarded  as  your  intel- 
lectual posterity.  For  they  will  certainly  inherit  from 
you,  scarcely  less  than  from  their  parents,  attributes  and 
tastes  which,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  will  go  far  to 
mould  the  character  of  those  who  come  after  them. 

And   from   this   point  of  view   the   Darwinian   hypo-  Evolution 
thesis  and  all  the  facts  which  biologists  have  accumulated  a  hoPL'Ju! 

,        .  creed. 

are  full  of  illimitable  promise  tor  the  future  of  the  race, 
and  of  encouragement  to  the  true  and  earnest  teacher. 
It  may  be  that  within  the  narrow  span  of  history  known 
to  us  we  have  seen  few  examples  of  new  physical 
types,  and  no  tendency  to  the  production  of  new 
species  of  humanity.  Yet  the  law  of  evolution  is 
visibly  at  work  in  the  spiritual,  the  social,  and  the 
mental    world.      New   forms   of  cerebral   development, 


1 1 2  The  Evolution  of  Character 

new  types  of  goodness,  wiser  forms  of  philanthropy, 
new  triumphs  over  the  material  world,  new  insight  into 
the  moral  world,  greater  knowledge  of  the  forces  which 
are  at  work  around  us,  greater  skill  in  the  manipulation 
of  these  forces,  broader  sympathies,  and  truer  conceptions 
of  the  brotherhood  of  man,  —  all  these  are  possible.  In 
all  these  respects,  as  in  nature  herself,  progress  tends 
towards  differentiation,  not  to  uniformity.  And  every 
earnest,  faithful  teacher  in  the  world,  however  small 
the  area  of  his  work,  however  humble  his  sphere,  is 
helping  forward  this  beneficent  process. 
The  "Say  not  thou,"  says  the  Hebrew  king,  "what  is  the 

in'liT6  cause  tnat  tne  former  days  were  better  than  these ?  for 
future.  thou  dost  not  enquire  wisely  concerning  this."  In  the 
twilight  of  history,  the  outlines  of  many  ugly  things 
become  softened,  and  some  good  things  become  magni- 
fied by  distance.  Much  of  insolence  and  brutality  may 
have  been  sheltered  under  the  name  of  chivalry ;  a  help- 
less and  ignorant  acquiescence  may  easily  have  assumed 
the  disguise  of  unity  of  faith.  To  an  old  man  with  a 
feeble  imagination  and  strong  self-love  it  seems  natural 
that  he  should  become  a  laudator  temporis  acti;  should 
be  impatient  of  modern  movements  ;  and  underneath  a 
general  reluctance  to  change  should  conceal  an  unex- 
pressed conviction  that  a  world  in  the  shaping  of  which 
he  can  have  no  part,  must  necessarily  be  worse  than  its 
predecessor.  But  I  believe  that  the  most  hopeful  forecasts 
of  the  future  are  on  the  whole  the  truest.  The  wisest 
old  men  I  know  are  not  those  who  are  ever  moaning 
over  the  degeneracy  of  the  age,  but  those  who  believe 
that  the  world  is  visibly  growing  better ;  and  that  in  the 
midst  of  many  discouragements,  the  general  march  of 
events  is  steadily  towards  righteousness  and  intelligence, 
towards  moral  and  social  amelioration. 


The  promise  of  the  future  1 1 3 

In  this  respect  Charles  Darwin  differed  widely  from 
Carlyle  and  Ruskin.  Nothing  has  struck  me  more  in  brief 
conversation  with  all  three  of  these  eminent  persons, 
than  the  contrast  between  the  deep  gloom  and  hopeless- 
ness with  which  Carlyle  and  Ruskin  regarded  the  ten- 
dencies of  our  age  and  the  cheerful  hope  and  faith  in  the 
future  which  marked  all  Darwin's  utterances. 

I  know  no  more  animating  thought  for  a  young  man 
entering  life  and  conscious  of  power  than  the  reflection 
that  he  is  not  living  for  himself  alone,  but  that  all  his 
own  strivings  after  excellence  and  after  a  higher  life  are 
distinct  even  though  humble  contributions  to  the  im- 
provement of  the  race  to  which  he  belongs.  Every  truth 
he  learns,  every  sweet  and  graceful  image  which  a  poet 
may  have  helped  him  to  harbour  in  his  heart,  every  piece 
of  good  work  he. achieves,  does  something  to  alter  for  the 
better  the  conditions  of  life  for  those  with  whom  he 
comes  in  contact.  It  helps  to  make  the  path  of  duty  and 
of  honourable  ambition  easier,  safer,  more  accessible, 
more  attractive  to  all  who  come  after  him.  And  per- 
chance it  may  enable  some  of  them  to  say  years  hence, 
"  We  are  grateful  for  his  memory.  This  world  is  a  better 
world  for  us  to  live  in  because  he  lived  in  it." 


LECTURE    IV 
THE   TRAINING   OF   THE    REASON 

The  art  of  thinking.  Reason  v.  understanding.  Two  processes 
of  arriving  at  truth.  The  deductive  process,  eg.  in  geometry, 
and  in  arithmetic.  An  arithmetical  example.  Measures  and  mul- 
tiples. The  number  nine.  Oral  demonstration  of  arithmetical 
principles.  Inductive  reasoning.  Practical  work  essential  in 
the  study  of  the  physical  sciences.  Two  neglected  branches  of 
physical  enquiry.  Natural  History;  Astronomy.  Meteorology. 
Object  lessons.  Inductive  exercises  in  language.  Examples  of 
verbal  analysis.  Apposition.  Induction  the  test  of  the  value 
of  educational  methods.  Child  study.  The  three  stages  of 
progress  in  inductive  science.  The  Kindergarten.  Religious 
teaching  to  be  largely  judged  by  its  results  on  character.  The 
School  a  laboratory.     Results. 

The  art  of  I  suppose  it  will  be  admitted  that  one  of  the  main 
//linking,  object  to  be  attained  in  education  is  to  teach  our  pupils 
how  to  think  —  to  think  consecutively,  closely,  and  effec- 
tively—  and  so  to  receive  the  discipline  which  will  enable 
them  to  arrive  at  truth.  This  is  a  necessity  ait  fond,  it 
has  relation  not  to  this  or  that  subject  of  instruction,  but 
to  all  subjects  alike.  Man  is  a  reasoning  animal,  and 
the  one  thing  which  distinguishes  him  from  all  other 
animals  is  his  power  to  reflect  and  to  reason.  Kant  has 
insisted  strongly  on  the  philosophical  importance  of  the 

Aeasonw    (]jstinction  between  Reason  and  Understanding,  between 
Under-  °' 

standing.     Vemunft  and   Verstand.     "The  latter,"  says  Coleridge, 

114 


Reason  v.  Understanding  115 

a . ' 

"  suggests  the  materials  of  reasoning  ;  the  former  decides 
upon  them.  The  Understanding  can  only  say,  This  is  or 
perhaps  will  be  so  ;  the  Reason  says,  It  must  be  so."  And 
it  is  to  this  "large  discourse,"  this  "looking  before  and 
after,"  the  power  of  generalizing,  of  inferring^  of  tracing 
events  and  facts  to  their  causes  and  their  consequences 
that  Shakespeare  refers  when  he  says  that  "  the  capability 
and  God-like  reason  "  must  not  be  permitted  to  rust  in 
us  unused.  Strictly  speaking,  there  is  in  the  lower 
animals  no  such  faculty  as  reason,  of  which  traces  can 
be  found  ;  but  of  understanding,  that  is,  the  knowledge 
of  particular  facts,  and  the  power  to  profit  by  experi- 
ence and  to  adapt  actions  to  circumstances,  you  have 
abundant  evidence.  in  different  degrees  we  find  the 
^JKSSBSe  oi  this  lower  faculty  exhibited  by  dogs,  horses, 
monkeys  and  other  animals ;  and  moreover  we  discover 
from  inductions  supplied  by  zoologists  that  the  under- 
standing appears  as  a  general  rule  in  an  inverse  propor- 
tion to  the  instinct.  We  hear  little  or  nothing  of  the 
instinct  of  what  Pope,  by  a  poetic  hyperbole,  calls  the 
c  half-reasoning  elephant,'  and  as  little  of  the  understand- 
ing of  caterpillars  and  butterflies.  But  reason,  in  its 
true  sense,  appears  to  be  denied  equally  to  the  highest 
and  to  the  lowest  of  the  brutes ;  "  otherwise  we  should 
wholly  attribute  it  to  them  ;  and  with  it,  therefore,  self- 
consciousness,  personality  or  moral  being."  l 

Leaving,  however,  all  speculations  as  to  the  degree  of 
mental  power  possessed  by  the  lower  animals,  and  the 
proper  name  which  should  be  given  to  that  power ;  we 
are  all  agreed  that  the  development  of  the  thinking  faculty 
in  our  pupils  is  one  of  our  highest  duties.  Too  many 
of  our  school  lessons  address  themselves  to  the  memory 

1  Coleridge,  The  Friend,  I.  208. 


n6  The  Training  of  the  Reason 

and  the  receptive  power  only.  So  long  as  lessons  are 
thus  restricted,  we  are  dealing  with  the  understanding 
—  verstand  only.  The  higher  faculty  —  the  reason, 
vernunft,  the  power  of  advancing  from  one  truth  to 
another  —  claims  its  own  special  and  appropriate  culti- 
vation ;  and  demands  fuller  recognition  in  our  school 
system.  That  men  and  women  are  richer,  stronger, 
more  fit  to  encounter  the  problems  of  life,  and  to  fulfil 
its  duties,  in  proportion  to  their  power  of  orderly  and 
accurate  thinking,  is  a  truism  which  we  need  not  discuss, 
and  which  we  may  safely  postulate  as  the  basis  of  our 
present  enquiry. 
Two  pro-  It  is  a  familiar  truth,  that  there  are  two  distinct  pro- 

cesses,  of     cesses  by  which  the  mind  advances  from  one  acquisition 

arriving  J 

at  truth,     to  another,  and  proceeds  from   the  known   10  lac-tr"-- 

known.     They  are  the  deductive  or  synthetic  process  and 
the  inductive  or  analytical  process. 

By  the  former  of  these  we  mean  the  starting  from  some 
general  and  accepted  axiom  or  postulate,  and  the  dis- 
covery, by  means  of  syllogism  or  pure  inference,  of  all 
the  detailed  facts  and  conclusions  which  may  be  logically 
deducible  from  it.  I  By  induction  we  mean  the  process  of 
proceeding  from  the  particular  facts  which  observation 
and  experience  bring  into  cognizance,  to  the  larger 
general  truth  which  co-ordinates  and  explains  them  all. 
In  short,  the  deductive  method  starts  with  general  pro- 
positions and  proceeds  to  investigate  them,  but  'the 
method  of  induction  is  an  operation  for  discovering  and 
proving  general  propositions.  It  is  true  that  these  two 
methods  of  procedure  are  not  so  sharply  divided  in 
practice  as  in  philosophic  theory.  For  the  axiom  or 
postulate  with  which  the  geometrician  starts  is  itself  the 
product  of  an  induction  from  experience.  That  "  the 
whole  is  greater  than  its  part,"  that  "  things  which  are 


I 

The  deductive  process  \\y 


equal  to  the  same  things  are  equal  to'one  another,"  that 
"  seven  times  four  yields  the  same  product  as  four  times 
seven  "  are  not  recognizable  as  self-evident  propositions 
until  a  little  thought  and  experience  have  shewn  them  to 
be  necessarily  true.  And  such  thought  and  experience 
are  in  their  nature  examples  of  the  inductive  process. 
But  once  let  these  and  the  like  fundamental  truths  be 
accepted,  whether  they  are  dependent  on  pure  intuition, 
or  are  general  statements  seen  to  be  involved  even  in 
the  very  meaning  of  the  terms  employed,  they  are  no 
longer  open  to  discussion  and  may  be  safely  used  hence- 
forth as  the  legitimate  bases  of  a  deductive  argument. 
They  are  so  obviously  trustworthy  that  they  stand  in  no 
need  of  further  verification  from  experience. 

Now  the  typical  example  of  the   deductive  process  f;ie 
and   of    the    methods    by   which    the    reasoning   power  deductive 
advances  from   one   truth  to  another  by  its  means,   is  olefin' 
demonstrative  geometry.     Here  the  only  hypotheses  that  geometry, 
can  be  taken  for  granted  are  distinctly  and   concisely 
stated  at  the  outset ;    and  nothing  else  is  permitted  to 
be  assumed.     You  are  not  at  liberty  to  say  of  two  lines 
that  they  are  equal  because  if  you  measure  them  you  find 
them  to  be  so,  or  because  the  diagram  before  you  shews 
plainly  that  they  look  so.     I  remember  my  old  mathe- 
matical teacher  Professor  De  Morgan  used  purposely  to 
distort  the  diagrams  out  of  all  recognizable  shape,  before 
he  set  us  to  demonstrate  a  proposition.     He  did  this  on 
principle,  because  he  would  not  have  us  rely  in  any  way 
on  the  help  of  the  eye,  when  the  whole  exercise  was  to 
be  one  of  pure  thought  and  logical  inference.     There  is 
a  story  of  a  student  who  reading  Geometry  with  a  tutor, 
and  sorely  puzzled  with  the  47th  proposition,  interrupted 
the  lesson  with  the  enquiry  '  Was  Euclid  a  good  man?' 
'Oh  yes,  I  believe  so.'     'I  mean  was  he  an  honourable, 


1 1 8  The  Training  of  the  Reason 

truthful  man,  who  would  not  willingly  deceive  any  one?' 
'  I  have  no  reason  to  doubt  it.'  '  Well  then,  don't  you  think 
we  might  take  his  word  for  this  proposition  ? '  Of  course 
the  absurdity  of  this  story  lies  in  the  fact  that  the  result, 
the  proved  statement,  has  no  value  or  interest  in  itself; 
and  that  the  only  use  of  the  exercise  is  to  be  found  in 
the  process  by  which  the  result  has  been  obtained.  In 
that  process,  the  student  has  been  called  on  to  follow  a 
severe  course  of  ratiocination,  to  shut  out  from  his  mind 
every  irrelevant  consideration,  to  proceed  from  one  step 
to  another  by  strictly  scientific  processes,  and  to  believe 
nothing  which  he  cannot  prove.  And  these  are  ex- 
periences through  which  every  one  must  go,  if  he  would, 
in  relation  to  any  of  the  problems  speculative  or  practical, 
which  occur  in  life,  understand  well  the  difference  between 
valid  and  invalid  argument,  between  conclusions  which  are 
only  plausible  and  those  which  are  safe  and  trustworthy. 
a)lj  j„  I  have  in  a  former  lecture  in  this  place l  expressed  my 

arithmetic,  opinion  that  intellectual  discipline  of  this  kind  is  in  its 
own  way  just  as  valuable  to  scholars  in  the  earlier  as  in 
the  later  stages  of  their  training,  and  that  even  in  the 
humblest  schools  the  subject  of  arithmetic  offers  the  best 
material  for  deductive  exercise,  and  may  be  made  to 
furnish  training  in  the  art  of  reasoning  which  relatively 
to  the  age  of  the  pupil  is  fully  as  appropriate  as  exercise 
in  the  higher  mathematics  is  to  an  older  student.  But 
one's  voice  is  like  that  of  one  crying  in  the  wilderness. 
In  this  country  there  is  no  practical  recognition  of  the 
fact.  Arithmetic  is  not  treated  as  a  branch  of  mathe- 
matics. We  teach  it  as  a  contrivance  for  getting  correct 
answers  to  problems  and  questions.  Our  mode  of  testing 
the  results  of  arithmetical  teaching  is  to  set  sums  to  be 
worked,  and  if  the  answer  is  right  examiners  do  not 
1  Lectures  on  Teaching. 


Demonstrative  arithmetic  119 


enquire  too  curiously  as  to  the  reasons  of  the  methods 
employed,  or  as  to  the  principles  which  those  methods 
presuppose.  Hence  our  methods  of  teaching  are  domi- 
nated by  the  methods  of  examiners,  and  the  science  of 
arithmetic  is  often  unheeded  in  both.  It  is  otherwise  in 
France.  There  the  humblest  examination  —  that  for  the 
leaving  certificate  at  the  age  of  12  or  13  at  the  end  of 
the  primary  school  course  —  requires  not  only  the  working 
out  of  problems,  but  a  solution  raisonnee.  The  notion 
that  mathematical  exercises  have  as  their  chief  object 
the  solution  of  problems  is  as  little  satisfying  to  the 
skilled  teacher  in  a  French  elementary  school  as  it  is  to 
a  high  wrangler.  The  rationale  of  arithmetical  processes 
is  to  him  a  matter  of  more  importance  than  with  us. 

So  at  the  risk  of  repeating  an  oft-told  tale,  I  ask  your  An  arith- 

leave  further  to  illustrate  the  way  in  which  even  elementary  "ulu'al 

J  -  example. 

exercises  in  Arithmetic  may  be  made  subservient  to  the  Measures 

training  of  young  scholars  in  the  art  of  reasoning.  Take  a  ,.-., 
the  subject  of  measures  and  multiples.  I  purposely 
choose  this,  because  there  is  nothing  commercial  or 
visibly  useful  and  practical  in  it,  but  simply  because  of 
its  suitableness  as  an  intellectual  exercise.  You  need 
not  begin  by  giving  rules  ;  but  simply  by  describing  the 
thing  to  be  dealt  with.  Three  is  called  a  measure  of  12, 
because  a  certain  number  of  threes  make  12;  and  12 
for  this  reason  is  called  a  multiple  of  3.  You  call  for 
other  examples,  5  a  measure  of  20,  20  a  multiple  of  5, 
and  you  soon  arrive  at  the  proposition  that  if  A  is  a 
measure  of  B,  B  is  a  multiple  of  A.  Then  in  succession, 
you  elicit,  through  questions  and  through  examples  sup- 
plied by  pupils,  the  following  axioms  in  succession  :  — 

(1)  That  if  one  number  measure  another  it 
must  measure  all  multiples  of  that  other.  For  if  3  is  a 
measure  of  6  it  must  be  a  measure  of  any  number  of  sixes. 


120  The  Training  of  tJie  Reason 

(2)  That  if  one  number  measure  two  others  it 
must  measure  their  sum.  For  if  .5  be  a  measure  of  20 
and  also  of  15  •  it  must  be  a  measure  of  35. 

(3)  That  if  one  number  measure  two  others  it 
must  measure  their  difference.  For  if  6  be  a  measure  of  48 
and  also  of  12,  the  difference  between  these  two  numbers 
must  consist  of  a  certain  number  of  sixes.     Hence 

(4)  That  if  a  number  measure  both  divisor  and 
dividend  it  must  measure  the  remainder.  For  the 
remainder  is  the  difference  between  the  dividend  and 
a  multiple  of  the  divisor. 

(5)  If  one  number  measure  the  divisor  and  re- 
mainder it  must  measure  the  dividend.  For  the  dividend  is 
the  sum  of  the  remainder  and  of  a  multiple  of  the  divisor. 

With  these  truths  before  you,  you  next  ask  what  is  to 
be  done  when  we  want  to  find  the  Common  Measure  of 
two  numbers,  say  266  and  637.  We  do  not  know  and 
cannot  easily  tell  by  simple  inspection  what  is  the  .G.  c.  m. 
or  even  whether  they  have  a  Common  Measure  or  not.  So 
we  will  make  one  the  divisor  and  the  other  the  dividend  : 

266)637(2 

105)266(2 
210 

56)105(1    • 

49)56(i 
49 
7)49(7 
49 

Proceeding  step  by  step,  we  observe  the  number 
of  which  we  are  in  search,  if  it  exist,  i.e.  if  266  and  637 
have  a  Common  Measure,  must  also  be  a  c.  M.  of  266  and 
105  (Axiom  4).     Apply  the  same  test  by  making  one  of 


The  number  nine  121 


these  the  dividend  and  the  other  the  divisor,  and  it  then 
appears  successively  that  it  must  also  be  a  cm.  of  56 
and  49.  But  the  number  seven  is  found  to  fulfil  this 
condition.  Hence  it  is  a  measure  of  266  and  637. 
But  it  is  also  the  greatest  c.  m.  For  if  there  be  a  greater 
than  7  let  it  be  x.  Then  x  must  be  a  measure  also 
of  105,  also  of  56,  also  of  49,  also  of  7  itself,  and  this 
is  plainly  impossible.  Wherefore  the  last  divisor  in  such 
a  series  is  always  the  Greatest  Common  Measure  of  the 
two  numbers.     Q.  e.  d. 

Let  us  take  one  other  example.     In  old  books   of  The 
Arithmetic  much  is  often  said  of  the  properties  of  the  """" 

1       *  nine. 

number  nine.  There  were  rules  for  casting  out  nines, 
puzzles  and  conundrums  were  set  involving  the  use  of 
that  number,  and  learners  came  to  regard  it  as  having 
some  mysterious  and  occult  qualities,  which  might  serve 
as  a  sort  of  "  Whetstone  of  Witt,"  but  otherwise  were 
objects  rather  of  curious  than  of  practical  enquiry.  Now 
of  course  there  is  no  mystery  or  enigma  about  the  number 
nine  at  all.  What  seems  to  be  exceptional  about  it  arises 
from  two  facts.  ( 1 )  That  ours  is  a  system  of  notation 
which  has  ten  for  its  base,  and  (2)  that  9  is  one  less  than 
ten.  And  on  investigation  it  is  seen  that  if  our  arithmetic 
had,  say  an  octary  instead  of  a  decimal  base,  every  one 
of  the  peculiar  properties  of  the  number  9  would  belong 
to  the  number  7,  or  if  ours  were  a  duodecimal  system  the 
property  would  belong  to  the  number  eleven  ;  because 
in  each  case  the  number  would  be  one  less  than  the 
number  chosen  as  the  base.  Let  us  invite  scholars  to 
look  at  a  line  of  figures  taken  at  random  : 
732,S65. 
I  ask  would  that  number  if  tested  prove  to  be 
divisible  by  nine?  I  do  not  know,  but  I  add  together  the 
digits  7  +  3+2  +  8  +  6  +  5,  and  I  find  they  equal  31. 


122  The  Training  of  tJic  Reason 

Now  31  when  divided  by  9  would  leave  a  remainder  4. 
So  it  is  also  true  that  the  number  itself  if  divided  by 
9  leaves  a  remainder  4.  We  can  test  this  statement  by 
actual  trial.     For  example, 

9l 732865 
81429  +  4 

Why  should  this  be?  The  result  is  seen  to  be  a 
necessary  conclusion  from  the  fact  that  we  have  a  decimal 
system.  For  take  each  figure  in  succession.  The  first 
means  700000,  but  100000  is  made  of  99,999  +  1.  If 
1 00000  were  divided  by  9,  it  would  leave  a  remainder  1. 
Therefore  if  7  times  100000  were  divided  by  9  it  would 
leave  a  remainder  7.  In  like  manner  30000  which  is 
represented  by  the  next  figure  would  if  divided  by  9 
leave  a  remainder  3,  2000  a  remainder  2,  800  a  remainder 
8,  60  a  remainder  6,  and  the  5  would  remain  undivided. 
Every  digit  in  the  whole  number  732865  therefore 
represents  a  remainder  after  division  by  9.  Now  if 
we  add  all  these  remainders  together  they  make  31, 
and  this  number  if  divided  by  9  leaves  a  remainder  4. 
Consequently  the  whole  number  if  divided  by  9  would 
leave  the  same  remainder.  Once  seen  in  this  way  the 
interpretation  of  all  the  puzzles  connected  with  this 
number  becomes  simple.  Other  applications  of  the 
same  truth  would  soon  become  visible  if  the  truth  itself 
were  once  grasped.  And  many  ingenious  exercises  might 
be  devised  both  by  teachers  and  pupils,  so  as  to  turn 
enquiries  into  the  '  properties '  of  the  number  nine  into 
a  really  intellectual  discipline. 

So  I  counsel  teachers  when  they  have  once  given  a 
demonstrative  lesson  of  this  or  the  like  kind,  and  made 
their  ground   sure  by  questioning,  and  by  the  right  use 
principles,  of  examples   furnished   by  their  pupils,  to  call  out  one 


Oral  demonstration  123 

scholar  at  a  time  and  bid  him  take  the  numbers,  and  go 
through  the  explanation  in  the  presence  of  the  class.  It 
is  not  enough  that  he  should  be  able  to  reproduce  a 
written  demonstration  in  an  examination  paper.  What 
you  want  is  to  secure  that  close  attention,  that  keen 
perception  of  the  several  steps  of  an  argument,  and  that 
due  continuity  of  thought,  which  is  only  to  be  tested 
orally.  In  writing  out  a  demonstration,  there  is  room 
for  delay,  for  after  thoughts,  for  correction,  possibly  for 
the  use  of  merely  verbal  memory.  But  it  is  only  by 
challenging  the  scholar  to  stand  up  and  reproduce  your 
explanation  in  his  own  words,  that  you  can  secure  the 
promptitude,  the  clearness  of  thought,  and  the  stedfast 
concentration  of  the  mental  powers  on  the  one  subject  in 
hand,  which  are  necessary  to  make  him  a  good  reasoner ; 
and  so  get  out  of  mathematical  exercise,  whether  in  an 
elementary  or  a  higher  school,  all  the  advantage  which 
such  exercise  is  capable  of  giving.  Nothing  struck  me 
so  much  in  the  American  schools  as  the  large  extent  to 
which  the  scholars  are  trained  to  the  habit  of  telling  in 
their  own  words,  and  in  sentences  of  their  own  construc- 
tion, what  they  mean  and  what  they  know.  This  is  a 
discipline  very  insufficiently  cultivated  here.  We  in 
England  are  often  content  to  get  from  our  pupils 
answers  to  questions,  often  in  single  words;  and  to  infer 
from  certain  marks  of  sympathy,  from  the  way  in  which 
the  scholars  fill  up  the  lacuna  in  our  own  sentences,  that 
they  are  following  us,  and  assimilating  what  we  have 
taught.  We  get  the  pupil's  assent  to  propositions,  and 
are  apt  to  think  that  enough.  But  the  true  teacher 
knows  that  mere  acquiescence  is  not  knowledge.  So 
in  America  the  teacher  generally  insists  on  having  the 
answers  in  whole  sentences,  and  it  is  a  common  practice 
to  send  the  scholars  one  by  one  to  the  continuous  black- 


1 24  The  Training  of  the  Reason 

board  which  runs  all  round  the  class-room  walls,  and 
call  on  each  to  repeat  in  the  presence  of  the  class  the 
demonstration  of  a  theorem  or  the  explanation  of  an 
arithmetical  rule.  At  first,  of  course,  it  will  be  difficult 
to  adopt  this  practice  and  it  will  consume  a  good  deal 
of  time.  The  pupils  will  be  shy  and  awkward  and 
unready.  It  is  so  much  easier  to  sit  in  a  desk  and  listen, 
and  to  make  signs  of  assent  than  to  face  the  class,  and 
to  draw  on  one's  own  resources.  But  once  let  the  practice 
be  recognized  as  part  of  the  habitual  discipline  of  the 
class  it  will  become  easier  every  time  and  will  be  found 
to  have  an  excellent  effect.  It  will  not  only  assure  you 
that  what  has  been  taught  has  been  really  learned,  but 
also  serve  to  quicken  the  attention  and  the  intelligence 
of  the  scholars,  because  they  know  that  this  form  of 
test  is  likely  to  be  applied  to  them  at  the  end  o'f  the 
lesson. 
Inductive  The  other  great  instrument  in  thinking  and  reasoning 
reasoning.  js  ^  jnjllcflVt,  method,  that  of  .proceeding  from  the 
observation  of  particulars  to  the  discovery  and  proof  of 
general  propositions.  The  processes  by  which  this  result 
is  attained  are  (1)  observing  of  facts,  (2)  recording  the 
facts  which  have  been  observed,  (3)  grouping  and  co-ordi- 
nation, (4)  suspension  of  judgment  while  the  facts  remain 
unverified,  (5)  experiment,  (6)  openness  of  mind  to 
receive  new  evidence,  (7)  discrimination  between  rele- 
vant and  irrelevant  facts,  (8)  what  Bacon  in  the  New 
Atlantis  calls  "  raising  the  result  of  former  discoveries 
into  greater  observations,  axioms  and  aphorisms  "  ;  in 
other  words,  arriving  at  large  general  truths,  these  truths 
themselves  being  only  held  provisionally,  since  they  may 
possibly  be  absorbed  or  superseded  by  larger  generaliza- 
tions hereafter. 

All  these  mental  operations  come  into  play  at  every 


Collocation  of  facts,  not  inductions  125 

turn  in  our  lives.  Their  value  is  most  conspicuous  in 
the  pursuit  of  physical  science,  and  no  doubt  it  is  in  that 
region  that  the  highest  triumphs  of  the  inductive  method 
have  been  achieved.  But  we  as  teachers  have  also  to 
think  of  the  inductive  method  of  study  rather  as  genera- 
ting a  certain  habit  of  mind,  and  as  calling  forth  powers 
which  are  applicable  to  our  views  of  history  and  morals, 
to  our  judgments  of  books  and  of  one  another,  and  to 
much  of  the  business  and  conduct  of  our  daily  life.  And 
in  the  formation  of  our  own  character  and  in  fitting  us  to 
deal  wisely  with  the  problems  that  every  day  presents, 
it  is  of  far  more  consequence  that  we  should  know  how 
to  use  particular  experience  as  a  means  of  arriving  at 
general  truths,  than  that  we  should  argue  correctly  from 
given  premisses  to  correct  conclusions.  We  go  wrong 
more  often  by  arriving  too  hastily  at  general  assumptions, 
from  insufficient  data,  than  by  reasoning  illogically  from 
data  already  ascertained.  This  being  so,  it  behoves  us 
to  enquire  whether  the  habits  of  mind  brought  into 
exercise  by  the  inductive  method  may  not  be  encouraged 
by  ordinary  school  studies,  and  made  operative  on  the 
formation  of  character  even  in  the  early  years  devoted 
to  instruction.  Is  there  not  opportunity  for  strengthening 
the  inductive  powers  in  connexion  with  some  of  the 
ordinary  school  studies,  as  well  as  in  the  laboratory  of  the 
chemist  or  the  electrician  ? 

It  is  well  to  bear  in  mind  that   the  mere  grouping  Grouping 

and  collocation  of  a  number  of  facts  does  not  necessarily  °ffacis '"]' 

J  necessarily 

deserve  the  name  of  induction.  I  find  on  looking  at  the  induction. 
sheep  in  a  field,  that  all  of  them  have  wool  of  a  certain 
colour,  and  that  the  feet  of  all  of  them  shew  a  divided 
formation.  But  this  is  merely  a  collective  statement  true 
of  all  the  sheep  under  observation.  There  is  generaliza- 
tion but  no  induction,  for  no  light  is  thrown  upon  any- 


126  The  Training  of  the  Reason 

thing  beyond  the  field  itself.  But  if  after  larger  obser- 
vation and  experience,  and  some  knowledge  of  animal 
anatomy  and  physiology,  I  arrive  at  the  conclusion  that 
all  sheep  have  divided  hoofs,  I  transcend  the  boundaries 
of  my  actual  experience,  I  assume  that  there  is  a  certain 
uniformity  in  Nature,  and  thus  infer  that  what  we  know  to 
be  true  in  a  particular  restricted  area,  will  be  true  in  all 
cases  under  similar  conditions,  and  that  what  may  be 
asserted  of  the  individual  members  of  a  class  may  be 
safely  predicated  of  the  whole  class  to  which  those 
members  belong.  An  induction  of  this  kind  includes 
more  than  a  description  and  explanation  of  certain  facts. 
It  extends  farther  than  the  phenomena  actually  observed. 
It  gives  a  key  to  the  interpretation  of  other  facts  in 
Natural  History,  and  to  the  prediction  of  what  will  be 
found  to  be  true  under  like  conditions.  Only  in  this 
way  does  induction  become  an  instrument  of  reasoning, 
and  a  help  to  the  attainment  of  yet  unknown  and 
undiscovered  truth. 
Practical         Intellectual   exercise   of    this   kind   is  specially  and 

•work  es-     rjchiv   provided    in   such   studies   as     Natural    History, 

senttai  in  J     l- 

the  study     Physical  Geography,  Botany,  and  in  each  of  the  Physical 

of  physical  Sciences.     It  would   tire  you  to  illustrate  in   detail  the 

science. 

ways  iii  which  each  of  these  studies  offers  opportunities 
to  the  learner  for  bringing  his  powers  of  observation,  of 
comparison,  of  classification,  and  of  generalization  into 
play.  But  in  every  one  of  them  it  is  a  mistake  to  suppose 
that  the  facts  and  the  principles  of  the  science  are  all 
he  wants.  He  should  be  made  to  take  his  own  part  in 
arriving  at  such  facts  and  principles.  The  little  child  to 
whom  you  give  a  packet  of  various-coloured  beads  or 
papers,  and  who  is  told  to  match  them  and  to  sort  them, 
has  an  early  lesson  in  observing,  and  in  comparing,  and 
in  classifying.     The  older  learner  who  is  told  to  dissect 


Practical  zvork  in  science  127 

a  flower,  and  to  set  apart  the  pistil,  the  stamens,  the 
corolla  and  the  seed  vessels,  and  to  discover  how  many 
of  the  organs  in  a  plant  are  vital  and  what  are  their 
several  functions  ;  the  student  in  a  laboratory  who  makes 
by  himself  an  analysis  of  a  compound,  and  knows  how 
to  separate  carbon  from  oxygen  and  from  hydrogen, 
passes  through  a  kind  of  training  which  could  not  be 
acquired  by  reading,  or  by  hearing  lectures.  He  learns 
in  this  way  patience  and  minuteness  of  observation ; 
and  he  thus  becomes  acquainted  not  only  with  the 
result  of  other  people's  investigations  into  the  secrets 
of  nature,  but  also  with  the  operations  by  means  of 
which  these  investigations  have  been  conducted  to  a 
successful  issue,  and  by  which  he  himself  may  hope  some 
day  to  add  to  the  store  of  truth  which  has  been  accumu- 
lated in  the  world. 

All  the  best  modern  scientific  teachers  insist  now 
on  the  necessity  of  practical  work  in  the  teaching  of 
physics  in  its  several  departments.  The  intellectual 
discipline  to  be  had  in  the  pursuit  of  the  inductive 
or  experimental  sciences  is  not  to  be  had  from  books 
alone,  nor  even  from  witnessing  the  demonstrations  of 
the  most  inspiring  teacher.  It  can  only  be  obtained  by 
the  active  co-operation  of  the  student  himself,  through 
his  mistakes  and  failures  as  well  as  his  successes,  and 
through  the  actual  handling  of  the  materials  whose 
properties  he  wants  to  discover.  A  few  years  ago  the 
earliest  exercises  we  had  in  mechanics  were  largely 
mathematical.  One  learned  the  parallelogram  of  forces, 
and  a  number  of  formulae  respecting  impact,  friction, 
statical  and  dynamical  energy  and  the  like.  And  all  this 
preceded  the  learner's  actual  contact  with  machines.  But 
the  modern  teacher  takes  his  pupil  to  look  at  the  piece 
of  mechanism,  the  printing-press,  the  air-pump,  or  the 


128  The  Training  of  tJie  Reason 

barometer  as  a  whole.  He  first  asks  what  purpose  it  has  to 
serve,  then  investigates  each  part,  and  seeks  to  show  how 
and  why  it  contributes  to  the  fulfilment  of  that  purpose. 
And  this  method  of  inductive  or  analytical  procedure, 
from  the  concrete  to  the  simple,  from  the  whole  to  the 
part,  is  found  in  practice  to  be  much  more  effective,  and 
more  in  harmony  with  the  constitution  of  the  human 
understanding  than  that  which  begins  with  what  are  L 
often  called  the  elementary  principles  of  Science.  That 
which  seems  first  in  the  order  of  logic,  is  often  last  in  the 
order  of  discovery.  So  the  modern  scientific  teachers  put 
instruments  into  the  student's  hands,  make  him  measure 
or  dissect  for  himself,  require  him  to  keep  a  written 
record  of  such  experiments,  and  to  tell  afterwards  in 
his  own  words  what  he  has  learned  and  how  he  learned 
it.  The  best  teachers  ask  that  he  shall  accept  nothing 
on  their  authority  ;  and  they  are  less  concerned  with  the 
value  and  utility  of  the  result  attained  than  with  the 
discipline  of  the  enquiring  and  even  the  sceptical  spirit, 
and  with  the  formation  of  that  habit  of  mind  which  is 
ready  to  accept  all  verified  truths  however  unwelcome 
and  unexpected  they  may  be. 
Tzvo  As  to  the  material  on  which  the  inductive  faculty  is 

neglected  to  wq,-]^  we  may  say  t]iat  there  is  no  one  department  of 
0f physical human  knowledge  in  which  it  will  not  find  scope  for 
enquiry,  exercise.  Yet  it  is  in  the  domain  of  Nature,  and  in 
connexion  with  physical  and  material  forces  that,  by 
common  consent  the  true  scientific  spirit  is  best  to  be 
cultivated.  Nevertheless  in  the  modern  curricula  laid 
down  by  Science  and  Art  Departments,  and  by  the 
University  authorities  who  shape  the  Natural  Science 
Tripos,  as  well  as  in  the  humbler  regulations  which 
prescribe  the  course  of  alternative  teaching  for  ele- 
mentary schools,  one  cannot  fail  to  notice  the  practical 


Natural  History  129 


exclusion  of  two  branches  of  knowledge,  which  afford, 
each  in  its  own  way,  an  admirable  field  for  careful 
observation,  for  recording  facts  and  phenomena,  and  for 
the  discovery  of  new  and  beautiful  general  laws.  I  mean 
Natural  History  and  Astronomy. 

The  boundless  and  multiform  experience  which  Vies  Natural 
open  to  the  view  of  the  patient  and  enthusiastic  naturalist 
is  well  illustrated  in  Sir  John  Lubbock's  books  on  Ants 
and  Bees.  The  child  who  is  led  to  feel  an  interest  in 
the  lower  animals,  otherwise  than  for  sport  or  play, 
and  is  shewn  how  to  observe  their  habits  and  to  learn 
how  their  structure  is  adapted  to  the  life  they  live,  and 
to  the  part  they  have  to  play  in  Nature's  economy  —  who 
makes  and  arranges  his  own  collection  of  caterpillars,  of 
leaves,  of  ferns,  or  of  shells  —  is  unconsciously  a  minister 
and  to  some  extent  an  interpreter  of  Nature,  and  is 
undergoing  some  of  the  training  in  the  inductive  phi- 
losophy which  will  certainly  do  much  to  strengthen  his 
intellectual  life.  And  even  if  it  does  not  lead  to  the 
making  of  new  discoveries,  the  habit  of  making  col- 
lections is  one  which  has  a  great  influence  in  developing 
the  observant  faculty,  and  in  bringing  the  learner  into 
loving  communion  with  Nature.  Mr  Ruskin  for  example 
has  said,  "The  leaves  of  the  herbage  at  our  feet  take 
all  kinds  of  strange  shapes  as  if  to  invite  us  to  examine 
them.  Star  shaped,  heart  shaped,  spear  shaped,  arrow 
shaped,  fretted,  fringed,  cleft,  furrowed,  serrated,  sinuated, 
in  whorls,  in  tufts,  in  spires,  in  wreaths,  endlessly  ex- 
pressive, deceptive,  fantastic,  never  the  same  from  foot- 
stalk to  blossom,  they  seem  perpetually  to  tempt  our 
watchfulness  and  take  delight  in  outstripping  our  wonder." 
A  boy  who  hunts  through  the  woods  and  makes  a  collec- 
tion of  leaves,  arranging  them  according  to  their  shapes, 
assigning   the  names  to  the  trees  and  shrubs  that  bear 

K 


1 30  The  Training  of  the  Reason 

them,  who  observes  how  in  their  arrangement,  the  length 
of  their  stalks  and  the  exposure  of  their  surfaces,  they 
secure  to  the  plant  the  maximum  of  light  and  air,  is 
unconsciously  receiving  a  discipline  in  the  elements  —  if 
not  of  reasoning  —  at  least  in  the  processes  by  which  the 
material  for  reasoning  and  for  scientific  conclusions  may 
be  accumulated  and  used.  But  it  happens  that  know- 
ledge of  this  kind  does  not  "  pay."  No  examination 
tests  it,  no  form  of  honour  or  degree  is  to  be  gained  by 
it,  no  money  value  attaches  to  it.  And  hence  perhaps 
it  is  that  it  is  so  little  recognized  as  an  educational 
instrument,  and  so  seldom  practised.  There  was  a 
remarkable  collection  of  Natural  History  in  connexion 
with  the  St  George's  Free  Library  in  London.  It  had 
been  open  several  years,  it  was  admirably  arranged,  all  the 
objects  were  duly  labelled,  grouped  and  classified,  and  the 
whole  was  under  the  care  of  an  enthusiastic  naturalist 
who  had  collected  the  principal  part  of  the  objects,  and 
who  was  delighted  to  find  any  visitors  who  cared  about 
animal  life,  and  to  explain  the  wonders  of  the  collection 
to  them.  Yet  he  tells  me  sadly  that  though  a  few  persons 
stroll  aimlessly  through  the  rooms  from  time  to  time,  he 
has  hardly  known  one  visitor  who  shews  a  genuine 
interest  in  the  objects  and  makes  them  the  material  for 
serious  systematic  study.1 
Astronomy.  And  of  all  the  sciences,  the  grandest  and  most 
sublime  is  Astronomy.  No  study  is  better  calculated 
to  exalt  the  imagination,  to  enlarge  the  mental  horizon, 
and  to  give  to  us  a  true  sense  of  the  richness  and  vastness 
of  the  visible  creation,  and  of  our  own  true  place  in  it. 
Yet  it  is  far  less  studied  in  our  schools  than  it  was  many 
years  ago.    When  I  was  young,  I  remember  in  what  were 

1  This  collection  has  now  been  accepted  by  the  London  County 
Council,  and  forms  the  Natural  History  Museum  at  Hoxton. 


Astronomy  1 3  r 

called  'seminaries  '  for  young  ladies  that  though  much  of 
the  teaching  was  pretentious  and  absurdly  lacking  in 
thoroughness  and  reality,  'astronomy  and  the  use  of  the 
globes  '  were  always  put  forth  in  advertisements  as  integral 
parts  of  the  school  course.  It  is  true  that  the  teaching 
was  unscientific,  that  the  pupils  spent  much  time  in 
learning  lists  of  names,  and  in  finding  latitudes  and 
longitudes,  and  the  names  and  positions  of  the  fixed 
stars.  I  believe  that  this  sort  of  teaching  has  gone 
completely  out  of  fashion ;  mainly,  we  may  suspect, 
because  nobody  examines  in  it,  nobody  gives  prizes  for 
it,  and  there  is  no  commercial  value  in  the  result.  Yet 
after  all  even  the  crude  and  shallow  teaching  of  the  use 
of  the  globes  had  its  value.  It  enlarged  the  horizon  of 
the  pupils'  thoughts.  It  gave  them  a  new  interest  in  the 
mystery  of  the  heavens,  a  new  sense  of  the  grandeur  of  the 
universe,  and  an  awed  consciousness  of  '  the  silence  that  is 
in  the  starry  sky.'  It  led  them  to  lift  up  their  eyes  with  the 
feeling  of  the  old  prophet,  and  to  say,  '  Who  hath  created 
these  things,  that  bringeth  out  their  host  by  number,  that 
calleth  them  all  by  their  names,  not  one  faileth ? '  *  It 
carried  the  students  out  of  themselves  and  the  smaller  and 
prosaic  interests  of  their  own  lives,  and  led  them  to  care 
about  what  was  vast  and  eternal  and  infinitely  remote. 
Both  from  the  moral  and  the  intellectual  point  of  view, 
this  experience  is  healthful  and  inspiring.  It  is  worth 
while  to  know  how  to  find  the  polar  star,  and  how  to 
distinguish  planets  from  fixed  stars,  to  look  through  the 
telescope  and  see  the  moons  of  Jupiter,  and  to  distinguish 
the  several  constellations  in  the  heavens.  And  the 
knowledge  of  these  things  will  go  far  to  cultivate  the 
observant  faculty,  and  to  indicate  to  learners  the  methods 
by  which  the  laws  of  nature  have  been  studied.  Astro- 
nomy is  one  of  the  most  disinterested  of  sciences,  because, 

1  Isaiah  xl.  26. 


132  The  Training  of  the  Reason 

if  pursued  at  all,  it  is  not  because  money  is  to  be  made 
out   of  it,  but   simply  because  of  the  delight,  and  the 
sense  of  expansion  which  the  study  gives. 
Meteor-  Akin  to  purely  astronomical  studies  there  is  another 

00sy-  matter  of  inexhaustible  and  of  universal  interest  —  the 
weather.  In  travelling  through  the  cities  of  Europe, 
especially  in  Switzerland  and  Italy,  one  sees  in  central 
public  places,  a  barometer,  a  thermometer,  a  rain  gauge, 
a  wind  register,  and  a  daily  forecast  of  the  weather.  And 
I  have  watched  groups  of  scholars,  boys  and  girls,  on 
their  way  home  consulting  it,  enquiring  and  discussing, 
or  copying  down  a  figure  to  take  home  with  them.  It 
seems  to  me  that  in  England  our  municipal  bodies  do 
not  avail  themselves,  as  they  should  do,  of  this  simple 
and  inexpensive  device  for  increasing  the  public  intelli- 
gence and  interesting  the  young  in  the  phenomena  of 
nature.  But  in  boarding  schools,  in  which  the  teacher 
has  the  control  of  leisure  hours,  as  well  as  of  lessons,  there 
ought  to  be  kept  all  these  instruments,  and  if  possible  a 
telescope  also,  and  when  careful  observation  is  regularly 
made  and  organized,  and  certain  scholars  are  entrusted 
with  the  duty  of  keeping  the  daily  register,  a  new  source 
of  interest  and  of  useful  enquiry  is  opened  up.  There 
are  many  curious  popular  fallacies  current  about  meteor- 
ology ;  for  example,  the  old  and  utterly  unverified  notion 
that  the  moon's  phases  affect  the  weather.  Now,  in- 
stead of  dismissing  this  as  absurd  and  untrue,  suppose 
you  invite  the  elder  scholars  to  help  you  in  refuting  or 
verifying  it  ;  by  keeping,  say  for  six  months,  a  careful 
record  of  atmospheric  changes,  as  well  as  of  the  lunar 
changes ;  and  seeing  by  actual  experience  whether  they 
coincide  or  not.  You  cannot  fail  to  give  in  this  way 
an  elementary  lesson  in  inductive  philosophy,  though  you 
will  not  call  it  by  so  pretentious  a  name. 


Object  lessons  133 

Even  in  the  elementary  schools  it  is  possible  to  make  Object 
the  object  lesson  an  instrument  of  scientific  method.  "'"' 
The  first  thing  aimed  at  in  the  best  schools  is  to  secure 
accurate  observation  of  familiar  things.  The  senses 
must  first  be  cultivated.  But  unless  the  sense  perception 
is  succeeded  by  what  Herbart  rather  pedantically  calls 
'  apperception,' or  rather  by  mental  assimilation;  unless 
the  mind  recognizes  what  the  eye  sees,  there  is  no  educa- 
tion in  it  at  all.  Hence  it  is  sometimes  said  that  the  first 
stage  in  teaching  physical  science  is  presentation,  the  next 
representation,  or  the  recognition  by  means  of  words,  of 
what  has  been  presented,  and  the  third,  reflection  with 
generalization, — the  perception  of  the  truth  which  the  fact 
illustrates,  and  of  the  relation  in  which  the  fact  stands  to 
other  facts.  Unless  indeed  the  learner  is  led  by  some 
such  steps,  to  pass  from  the  region  of  visible  experience, 
into  that  of  intellectual  experience,  and  to  perceive  the 
broader  truths  which  underlie  the  facts,  those  studies 
which  have  of  late  contrived  to  appropriate  the  name  of 
science  are  of  little  intellectual  value,  and  will  carry  the 
learner  no  great  way. 

But  there  is,  in  fact,  no  single  subject  we  teach  which 
does  not  furnish  opportunities  for  exercise  in  thinking  and 
for  shewing  the  difference  between  true  and  false  inference. 
After  all,  our  minds  are  not  enriched  so  much  by  what 
we  know,  or  by  what  we  are  told  to  remember,  as  by  the 
degree  in  which  we  think  and  reflect  on  what  we  know. 
In  history,  for  example,  how  often  a  wise  teacher  will 
pause  and  say,  '  We  must  not  be  too  hasty  in  accepting 
the  current  estimate  of  this  event  or  of  this  man's 
character.  The  data  are  not  sufficient.  The  sources  of 
the  testimony  are  a  little  suspect  and  doubtful.  This 
particular  act  may  have  been  exceptional,  not  charac- 
teristic,   it    may    have    been    brought    about    by    special 


1 34  The  Training  of  the  Reason 

circumstances  of  which  we  know  but  little.  We  must 
not  treat  it  as  if  it  were  typical,  or  as  if  it  justified  a 
general  statement.'  Those  who  have  been  accustomed  to 
form  their  judgments  about  historical  personages,  with  this 
caution  and  reserve,  have  received  a  lesson  in  reasoning 
which  will  find  itself  indirectly  but  yet  effectually  appli- 
cable to  current  events,  to  political  partizanship,  to  the 
estimates  formed  of  public  men,  as  well  as  to  the 
opinions  formed  about  one  another. 

Inductive  Let  me  borrow  one  other  illustration  of  the  inductive 
method  of  advancing  through  the  known  to  the  unknown, 

language,  from  a  region  of  experience,  which  does  not  claim  the 
name  of  Science  ;  I  mean  from  the  study  of  the  English 
language,  and  particularly  that  form  of  mental  exercise 
which  we  may  call  verbal  analysis.  I  purposely  choose  my 
illustrations  to-day  rather  from  the  lower  than  the  higher 
departments  of  school  work.  You  ask  the  scholars  to 
give  you  a  few  instances  of  words  ending  with  the  letters 
Hon.     Well,  they  give  you  in  succession  :  — 

Examination,  Addition, Illustration,  Composition.  You 
write  down  on  the  black-board  a  list  of  such  words  as 
the  pupils  supply  them.  You  next  take  two  or  three  of 
them  and  ask  to  have  them  placed  in  sentences.  After 
this  you  ask  in  each  case  what  part  of  speech  the  word  is, 
and  receive  in  answer  that  they  are  all  nouns.  Next  you 
cut  off  the  final  syllable,  and  ask  what  is  left.  In  each 
case  you  will  be  told,  examine,  add,  illustrate,  compose, 
that  the  word  is  a  verb.  Then  you  ask,  if  the  noun  is 
derived  from  a  verb,  what  sort  of  a  noun  must  it  be?  It 
does  not  represent  any  visible  thing ;  but  an  act,  an  idea, 
a  notion  which  is  in  the  mind  ;  it  is  therefore  in  every 
case  an  abstract  not  a  common  substantive.  You  pro- 
ceed to  shew  in  each  case  what  the  word  means  —  the 
act  of  doing  something,  e.g.  of  examining,  of  adding,  of 


Inductive  lessons  in  language  135 

composing,  or  the  like.  You  then  recapitulate,  and  with 
the  scholars'  help  arrive  at  four  conclusions,  (1)  that  the 
words  are  all  nouns,  (2)  that  they  are  all  derived  from 
verbs,  (3)  that  they  are  therefore  all  abstract  nouns,  (4) 
that  they  all  mean  the  act  of  doing  something.  Now  you 
add,  '  I  will  tell  you  a  fifth  thing  about  them  which  you 
may  not  already  know.  They  are  all  derived  from  Latin-, 
and  are  not  purely  English  words.'  Observe  here  that  you 
have  a  very  elementary  but  typical  example  of  induction 
as  an  intellectual  process.  You  first  find  your  examples, 
—  the  more  numerous  the  better  —  you  next  group  them 
together,  notice  wherein  they  differ  and  wherein  they  are 
alike,  then  try  experiments  upon  them  by  putting  them 
successively  into  sentences,  then  generalize  upon  them, 
then  formulate  your  results.  And  these  results,  when 
perceived,  are  found  to  apply  to  other  cases  which  are 
not  included  in  our  list.  The  learner  concludes  '  when 
I  meet  with  a  new  word  of  this  formation,  I  must  seek  the 
origin  and  explanation  of  it  in  the  Latin,  not  the  English 
vocabulary.'  Notice  too  how  much  the  value  of  the 
whole  operation  consists  in  the  fact  that  teacher  and 
taught  have  been  working  together  in  an  effort  of  dis- 
covery ;  no  theory  was  started  at  first ;  the  theory  as  it 
has  been  evolved  has  been  suggested  by  the  facts,  and 
has  grown  out  of  them.     Take  another  example. 

The  syllable  ly  if  added  to  a  noun  makes  an  adjective  :  Other 
if  added  to  an  adjective  makes  an   adverb.      Write  down  c-xa"'f'  es 

J  oj  verbal 

manly  at  the  top  of  a  column  and  sweetly  at  the  top  of  analysis. 
another,  put  each  of  them  into  a  sentence,  and  call 
attention  to  its  form  and  use.  Then  ask  for  a  number 
of  words  ending  in  ly  and  suggested  to  you  at  random, 
and  in  each  case  ask  the  scholars  to  determine  in  which 
column  it  should  be  placed  and  why.  The  exercise  is 
very  simple  no  doubt ;    but  it  is  a  good  example  of  an 


136  The  Training  of  the  Reason 

elementary  lesson  in  logical  discernment,  and  in  classifi- 
cation, and  therefore  in  the  art  of  thinking.  By  looking 
at  the  groups  of  words,  as  they  are  written  down,  the 
scholars,  with  these  data  before  them,  will  be  able  to 
supply  the  generalized  statement  in  their  own  words. 

That  words  with  certain  endings  are  Greek,  that  others 
are  always  Latin,  others  purely  English,  that  certain 
formations  are  hybrid,  and  therefore  signs  of  false  com- 
position ;  that  in  so  composite  a  language  as  ours  there 
are  a  few  exceptions  to  almost  every  general  rule  ;  and 
that  therefore  our  generalizations  must  be  expressed  with 
due  reserve  ;  —  all  these  are  useful  lessons  for  even  the 
youngest  child  to  learn,  and  they  may  be  learned  in  an 
effective  way  not  alone  by  observing  and  classifying  the 
phenomena  of  the  visible  and  tangible  world,  but  also  by 
dealing  with  the  material  which  we  have  always  close  at 
hand,  the  vocabulary  of  our  own  native  tongue. 

Indeed  I  doubt  if  teachers  have  yet  realized  the 
importance  of  the  analytical  or  inductive  method  in  its 
application  to  language  teaching.  The  common  practice 
of  treating  the  word  as  the  unit,  of  giving  rules  and 
definitions  first  and  their  practical  applications  afterwards, 
is  less  effective  and  certainly  far  less  interesting  than  the 
treatment  of  the  sentence  as  the  unit,  investigating  its 
component  parts  and  their  relation  to  each  other,  com- 
paring sentences  having  like  characteristics,  and  deducing 
all  the  laws  of  concord,  and  of  syntactical  arrangement 
as  the  result  of  such  comparison.  Why  certain  Latin 
verbs  should  govern  a  dative,  or  certain  connective  par- 
ticles should  be  followed  by  the  subjunctive,  and  what  is 
the  true  function  of  the  ablative  absolute  or  of  the  Greek 
aorist,  is  to  be  found  best  in  the  collocation  of  well- 
chosen  examples,  and  not  by  laying  down  authorita  ive 
rules  to  be  followed  blindly.     Yet  many  teachers  begin 


Apposition  and  disputation  137 

with  definitions,  and  attempt  in  the  region  of  language, 
which  is  essentially  a  region  of  experience,  to  employ 
the  methods  adopted  in  mathematics,  wherein  axioms, 
postulates  and  general  principles  may  be  safely  taken 
for  granted  at  first. 

One  exercise  which  has  a  bracing  and  healthy  action  Apposr- 
on  the  power  of  reasoning  was  more  common  and  was'70"' 
held  in  greater  esteem  in  the  middle  ages  than  in  our  time. 
I  mean  the  practice  of  public  speech  and  disputation, 
in  which  the  scholar  was  called  on  to  affirm  or  deny  a 
particular  proposition,  and  to  give  reasons  for  his  opinion. 
The  '  Apposition '  at  St  Paul's  and  other  schools  was 
an  occasion  for  a  public  exercise  of  this  kind.  Pepys 
tells  us  how  he  went  to  St  Paul's  School  to  hear  the 
boys  in  the  Upper  form  appose  one  another  and  what  he 
thought  of  the  merits  of  the  posers.  This  form  of  oral 
exercise  has  largely  disappeared  from  schools  and  survives 
only  in  the  higher  classes  of  the  great  public  schools  and 
in  the  '  Union  '  of  the  Universities.  No  one  doubts  its 
value  as  a  means  of  encouraging  fluency,  self-possession, 
and  mastery  in  the  art  of  argument.  It  enforces  on  the 
young  aspirant  the  need  of  accuracy  in  accumulating 
facts,  of  orderly  arrangement  of  his  matter,  and  of  logical 
method  and  a  persuasive  style.  But  there  is  no  good 
reason  why  it  should  not  be  adopted  more  frequently  in 
grammar  and  other  intermediate  schools,  if  appropriate 
subjects  are  selected,  and  opportunities  found.  As  a 
method  of  calling  out  latent  talent,  and  furnishing  prac- 
tical discipline  in  the  formation  of  right  opinions,  and  in 
helping  the  holders  to  maintain  and  defend  them,  it  well 
deserves  increased  attention  on  the  part  of  teachers. 
"  Nothing,"  said  Robert  de  Sorbon,  the  founder  of  the 
Sorbonne,  "  is  perfectly  known,  unless  it  is  masticated  by 
the  tooth  of  disputation."     Here  again  it  is  necessary  to 


i38 


T/te  Training  of  the  Reason 


Induction 
a  test  of 
the  value 
of  educa- 
tional 
methods. 


observe  that  the  business  of  a  school  is  not  to  enforce 
opinions,  but  to  give  the  clearness  and  openness  of 
mind,  by  means  of  which  opinions,  if  they  are  worth 
anything,  are  alone  to  be  rightly  formed.  In  just  the 
proportion  in  which  a  community  is  composed  of  in- 
telligent persons,  uniformity  of  opinion  becomes  less 
possible  and  even  desirable.  But  the  fearless  and  honest 
pursuit  of  truth,  the  readiness  to  follow  it  wherever  it 
may  lead,  are  in  themselves  of  more  importance  than 
any  conclusions  on  disputable  points.  There  is  a  story 
of  Carlyle  who  after  a  long  walk  and  argument  with  a 
friend  said,  "  We  have  had  a  delightful  afternoon,  and 
except  in  opinion,  we  agreed  perfectly." 

We  have  said  that  the  inductive  method  is  indispen- 
sable as  an  instrument  of  teaching ;  but  it  is  not  less  so 
as  a  guide  for  ourselves  in  forming  an  estimate  of  our  own 
procedure,  and  of  the  principles  on  which  our  work 
should  be  done.  Education  is  said  to  be  a  science  ;  but 
it  is  essentially  an  inductive  science,  a  science  of  obser- 
vation and  experiment.  It  is  not  one  which  will  be 
brought  to  perfection  by  the  study  of  speculative  psycho- 
logy alone  ;  by  accepting  what  are  called  first  principles  ; 
by  walking  worthy  of  the  doctrines  laid  down  by  Comenius, 
by  Ascham,  or  Quintilian  or  Rousseau  or  Pestalozzi  or 
Spencer  or  Herbart.  All  such  doctrines  have  their  value, 
and  a  very  high  value  to  the  professional  practitioner  in 
the  art ;  but  they  do  not  serve  alone  as  the  basis  for  a 
science,  any  more  than  the  theory  of  vortices,  or  the 
speculations  of  Thales  about  moisture,  or  the  old  doctrine 
that  all  matter  is  composed  in  different  proportions  of 
the  four  elements  of  earth,  air,  fire,  and  water.  We  must 
look  a  little  nearer  at  the  actual  phenomena  the  school- 
room presents  if  we  would  arrive  at  a  true  science  of 
education. 


Child  study  139 

From  this  point  of  view  Ave  may  regard  with  much  Child 
sympathy  and  hope  the  efforts  which  are  now  being  siutv' 
made  in  America  by  Dr  Stanley  Hall  and  Mr  Barnes, 
and  in  our  own  country  by  Professor  Sully,  to  observe 
children's  ways  and  character  more  carefully  and  to 
derive  if  we  can  practical  guidance,  from  child-study,  as 
well  as  from  the  a  priori  speculations  of  the  philosophers. 
But  though  we  may  regard  these  experimental  enquiries 
with  hope,  we  must  not  blind  ourselves  to  possible 
sources  of  error,  unless  those  enquiries  are  conducted 
with  due  caution  and  a  careful  observance  of  the  laws  of 
inductive  science.  There  is  a  danger  of  encouraging 
introspection  and  self-consciousness  on  the  part  of  little 
children,  when  we  ask  them  to  tell  us  their  motives  or 
their  thoughts.  There  is,  in  many  of  the  experimental 
exercises  of  which  I  have  read  reports,  a  tendency  on 
the  part  of  the  teacher  to  ask  children  for  their  opinions 
on  subjects  on  which  they  have  never  thought,  and  on 
which  in  fact  they  have  formed  no  opinion  at  all.  Hence 
he  sometimes  gets  random  and  foolish  answers,  some- 
times mere  guesses,  and  sometimes  answers  which  are 
framed  because  the  little  one  has  some  suspicion  of 
what  it  is  that  the  teacher  wants.  More  often  answers 
are  given  so  various  and  so  inconsistent  with  one 
another,  that  it  is  impossible  to  base  any  trustworthy 
conclusion  upon  them.  So  although  the  desire  of  many 
teachers  to  engage  in  child  study  evinces  a  true  philo- 
sophic instinct  we  must  in  pursuing  it  guard  ourselves 
against  its  dangers,  and  must  be  aware  of  its  limitations. 
We  must  not  be  probing  the  minds  of  children  to  discover 
what  is  not  there  ;  nor  encourage  them  to  attach  exag- 
gerated importance  to  their  own  little  experiences  and 
opinions.  We  must  beware  of  unreality,  of  confusing  the 
real  relations  which  should  subsist  between  teacher  and 


140  The  Training  of  the  Reason 

taught.  Above  all  we  have  to  guard  ourselves  against 
mistaking  accidental  and  exceptional  phenomena  for 
typical  facts ;  against  drawing  general  conclusions  too 
hastily  from  insufficient  data.  When  I  read  in  Ameri- 
can books  the  contradictory,  confused,  and  grotesque 
replies  which  have  been  so  diligently  compiled,  I  am 
more  than  ever  convinced  that  generalizations  founded 
on  such  data  may  often  prove  useless  and  sometimes 
misleading,  and  that  they  need  therefore  to  be  held  in 
suspense  for  the  present,  until  they  shall  be  verified  or 
corrected  by  a  larger  experience. 

Some  of  the  plans  adopted  in  these  investigations 
seem  to  me  highly  ingenious,  and  a  few  of  the  generaliza- 
tions obtained  from  them  to  be  fruitful  and  suggestive. 
The  experiments  made  in  connexion  with  the  earliest  and 
crudest  attempts  of  little  children  to  draw  familiar  objects 
have  shewn  clearly  how  common  it  is  to  attempt  to 
pourtray  not  what  they  actually  see,  but  what  they  know 
to  be  there.  Such  experiments  are  most  instructive  to 
teachers  of  drawing  and  design.  But  when  we  get  into 
the  region  of  morals,  and  of  conduct,  when  we  seek  to 
measure  the  forces  which  are  at  work  in  the  formation 
of  the  child's  character  and  sentiments,  it  does  not 
appear  to  me  that  the  enquiries  have  yet  conducted  us 
to  any  valuable  results.  This  is  not  a  reason  for  aban- 
doning the  quest,  or  for  discouraging  researches  into  this 
interesting  region  of  experience.  But  it  is  a  strong  reason 
for  caution,  and  patience,  and  for  resisting  all  temptation  to 
accept  general  conclusions  while  the  data  are  incomplete. 
The  three  Finality  has  not  yet  been    reached.     True    progress 

stages  of      m  tne  development  of  educational  science  can  only  be 
progress  in  .  . 

inductive    attained  by  means  of  a  fuller  application  of  the  mduc- 

science.       ^ve  method.     Comte  has  taught    that    there    are    three 
stages  in  the  history  of  science.     At  first  men  lay  down 


Three  stages  of  scientific  progress  141 

large  general  principles,  and  expect  them  to  be  taken  as 
axiomatic  and  accepted  truths,  which  contain  in  them 
the  explanation  of  all  which  has  to  be  explained.  Next 
comes  the  stage  at  which  phenomena  are  observed  and 
an  attempt  is  made  to  fit  the  explanation  of  them  to  the 
first  principles  which  have  been  already  accepted.  Lastly 
comes  the  sense  of  dissatisfaction  expressed  by  Bacon 
or  Darwin  with  these  explanations ;  and  the  determina- 
tion to  investigate  the  facts  alone,  to  let  them  suggest 
the  theories ;  and  to  accept  no  theories  which  do  not 
grow  out  of  the  phenomena'  themselves  and  cannot  be 
verified  by  actual  experience.  We  have  however  not  yet, 
in  educational  philosophy,  got  far  beyond  the  first  of 
these  stages.  We  start  from  what  seem  to  be  first  prin- 
ciples—  then  we  look  hesitatingly  at  the  facts  of  experience 
in  our  schools  and  colleges  and  see  how  far  they  can  be 
made  to  fit  into  our  theories,  and  are  disposed  to  say  if 
we  are  unsuccessful  —  tant pis  pour  les /aits.  At  last  we 
come  to  the  humbler  task  which  we  ought  to  have  put  at 
the  beginning  of  our  enquiries,  and  are  fain  to  ask  again 
Charles  II. 's  question  when  the  Royal  Society  brought  him 
a  scientific  discover)',  "  Are  you  quite  sure  of  your  facts?  " 
So  if  the  question  arises,  for  instance,  Can  Psycho- 
logy help  us  much  ?  We  must  answer,  "  That  depends 
on   the   other   questions,    (1)    Is  it  a  true  psychology? 

(2)  Is  it  verifiable,  and  has  it  been  actually  verified  by  the 
facts  of  daily  experience  in  our  families  and  schools?  and 

(3)  Are  the  teachers  who  profess  it  and  have  studied  it 
found  to  be  more  skilful  and  more  successful  than  others 
in  the  management  of  scholars  and  of  schools?  "  To  this 
crucial  test  all  theories  ought  in  the  end  to  be  submitted. 

Again  in  determining  the  educational  value  of  the  The  Kin- 
Frobelian  method  of  training  young  children,  we  cannot  derSarten' 
come  to  a  right  conclusion  by  speculating  on  the  order 


142  The  Training  of  tJic  Reason 

in  which  the  faculties  are  developed ;  it  would  be  well 
also  to  take  two  groups  of  children  at  the  age  of  ten  or 
twelve,  of  whom  those  in  one  group  have,  and  those  in 
the  other  have  not  been  subjected  to  the  Kindergarten 
discipline,  and  ask  ourselves  on  which  side  the  advantage 
lies,  in  respect  to  general  brightness  and  intelligence, 
desire  to  learn,  and  fitness  to  enter  upon  the  studies 
appropriate  to  a  later  age?  I  believe  that  the  answer  to 
such  questions  will  be  reassuring.  I  think  it  will  confirm 
our  faith  in  the  value  of  the  Frobelian  training ;  and  will 
prove  that  the  awakening  of  faculty,  the  exercises  of  eye 
and  hand,  and  the  introduction  of  activity  and  joyousness 
into  the  early  school  life,  have  often  served  to  make  the 
subsequent  school  exercises  easier  and  more  effective. 
But  if  this  does  not  prove  to  be  the  result,  let  us  honestly 
confess  it  and  revise  our  theories. 
Manual  In  like  manner  the  educational  value  of  manual  and 

technical  as  distinguished  from  literary  instruction  cannot 
be  estimated  a  priori.  We  want  to  know  what  is  the 
place  which  such  instruction  ought  to  hold  in  a  rounded 
and  complete  system  of  general  education ;  and  in  order 
to  be  sure  of  our  conclusions,  it  is  needful  to  enquire  ( 1 ) 
of  teachers,  what  is  the  reflex  influence  of  manual  work 
upon  intellectual  employments,  and  upon  the  habits  of 
mind  which  the  scholars  are  acquiring?  and  (2)  of  em- 
ployers of  skilled  labour,  do  they  find  that  the  school 
exercises  have  been  actually  helpful  in  producing  more 
skilled  artizans?  Have  these  exercises  tended  to  make 
the  pupils  more  industrious,  more  accurate,  more  open- 
eyed,  and  fonder  of  mechanical  work?  The  true  justifi- 
cation of  the  workshop  and  the  laboratory  as  adjuncts  to 
the  modern  school-room  can  only  be  found  in  a  satis- 
factory reply  to  these  questions,  and,  at  present,  we  await 
such  a  reply. 


instruc- 
tion. 


Religions  teaching  143 

Even  in  regard  to  the  highest  of  all  our  educational  Religious 

interests  —  those  which  concern  the  discipline  of  character,  ffM,     K to 

1  '  oe  largely 

and  the  teaching  of  religion,  we  cannot  safely  shrink  from  judged  by 

the  test  of  experience.     It  ought  not  to  suffice  for  us  to  lts  resu"s 
1  °  on  charac- 

reason  from  what  appear  to  be  first  principles  and  to  ter. 
assume,  for  example,  that  the  religious  life  is  to  be  formed 
by  the  early  and  authoritative  inculcation  of  certain 
theological  beliefs.  It  is  also  necessary  that,  freeing  our- 
selves sometimes  from  all  prepossessions  on  this  subject, 
we  should  look  around  us  and  ask,  "  Are  the  scholars  who 
have  been  taught  on  this  hypothesis  found  to  be  in  after- 
life attached  to  the  communion  to  which  they  owe  their 
special  religious  teaching?"  Can  we  trace  in  their  sub- 
sequent history  any  enduring  results  of  such  teaching? 
Is  any  difference  recognizable  afterwards  between  those 
who  have  and  those  who  have  not  been  subject  to  a 
particular  kind  of  dogmatic  teaching  ?  And  as  regards 
our  own  personal  experience,  when  we  look  back  on  the 
influences  which  have  shaped  our  lives,  we  may  profitably 
ask,  Were  those  which  took  the  form  of  didactic  lessons 
after  all  the  most  potent  and  enduring?  Whether  the 
result  of  honest  self-interrogation  confirms  our  precon- 
ceived opinion  of  the  value  of  creeds  and  formularies,  or 
leads  us  to  modify  that  opinion,  the  enquiry  will  prove 
equally  valuable. 

Gibbon's  naif  retrospective  estimate  of  the  influence 
of  his  early  studies  on  the  formation  of  his  own  tastes 
and  character  is  an  example  of  a  department  of  literature 
hitherto  very  imperfectly  explored.  To  search  through 
the  autobiographies  of  famous  writers  and  statesmen  and 
to  learn  what  in  their  opinion  has  been  the  worth  of  their 
school  learning  would  be  in  itself  an  instructive  study, 
and  a  test  of  the  soundness  of  many  cherished  opinions. 
This  is  a  task  which  yet  awaits  the  enterprising  explorer. 


144  The  Training  of  the  Reason 

Results.  The  principle  of  "payment  by  results  "  has  been  by 

general  consent  abandoned,  as  a  contrivance  for  estimat- 
ing the  amount  of  money-grant  which  should  be  awarded 
to  schools  from  public  funds.  But  the  right  estimation 
of  results  will  always  be  the  best  way  of  determining  the 
status  of  a  school  and  the  value  of  its  methods.  Grant 
only  that  our  conception  of  what  constitute  the  best  re- 
sults is  a  wide  and  true  one,  and  also  that  the-  mode  of 
estimating  the  results  is  duly  intelligent  and  sympathetic, 
public  authorities  who  may  be  charged  with  the  supervision 
of  schools  on  behalf  of  the  State  will  always  be  justified 
in  seeking  to  know  what  is  the  outcome  of  their  work. 
In  obtaining  this  knowledge  they  will  not  rely  wholly  on 
the  quality  and  the  number  of  written  answers  to  ques- 
tions, nor  wholly  on  the  general  impressions  of  an 
inspector,  as  to  the  methods  and  discipline  and  tone  of 
a  school.  But  they  will  seek  to  combine  the  two  pro- 
cesses of  inspection  and  examination,  and  so  to  get  the 
maximum  of  advantage  from  both  methods. 

The  sum  of  all  I  have  sought  to  enforce  on  this  point 
is  that  education  is  a  progressive  science,  at  present  in  a 
very  early  stage  of  development.  Hence  it  is  the  duty 
of  all  the  practitioners  of  that  science  to  be  well  aware 
of  its  incompleteness,  and  to  do  something  to  enlarge  its 
boundaries  and  enrich  it  with  new  discoveries.  Every 
school  is  a  laboratory  in  which  new  experiments  may  be 
tried  and  new  truths  may  be  brought  to  light.  And 
every  teacher  who  invents  a  new  method  or  finds  a  new 
channel  of  access  to  the  intelligence,  the  conscience  and 
the  sympathy  of  his  scholars  will  do  a  service  not  only 
to  his  professional  brethren  and  successors,  but  to  the 
whole  community. 


LECTURE'  V 

HAND   WORK   AND    HEAD    WORK 

Manual  and  technical  instruction.  Why  it  is  advocated.  Appren- 
ticeship. Ecoles  d' Apprentissage.  Technological  Institutes. 
The  Yorkshire  College  of  Science.  French  technical  schools, 
(i )  for  girls,  (2)  for  artizans.  The  Frobelian  discipline.  Sweden 
and  sloyd  work.  The  Ecole  ModelevX  Brussels.  Drawing  and 
design.  Educational  influences  of  manual  training.  The 
psychological  basis  for  it.  Variety  of  aptitude.  The  dignity 
of  labour.  Limitations  to  the  claims  of  manual  training. 
Needlework.     General  conclusions. 

I  propose  now  to  invite  your  attention  to  the  sub-  Manual 

ject  of  manual  training,  which  of   late  has  been  very  'Jn'nnS 

prominent  in  public  discus  ion,  and  will  certainly  ho.  technical 

brought  under  the  notice  of  young  teachers  entering  now  l1lstri<c~ 
rt  J         &  °  lion. 

on  their  profession.  Such  teachers  may  soon  be  con- 
fronted with  the  question  in  many  different  ways.  But 
it  is  one  on  which  it  is  very  desirable  that  they  should 
make  up  their  minds,  and  possess  themselves  not  only 
with  opinions  but  also  with  the  reasons  which  justify 
their  opinions. 

The  phrases  Technical  Instruction,  Hand-arbcit,  and 
Manual  Training,  are  used  in  various  senses,  sometimes 
with  much  vagueness,  and  often  by  persons  who  have 
very  different  objects  in  view.  But  they  have  become 
popular,  and  we  do  well  to  think  of  the  two  or  three  very 
different  meanings  which  are  assigned  to  them. 
l  145 


1 46  Hand  zvork  and  head  %vork 

Why  it  is  First  of  all,  we  have  to  reckon  with  those  advocates 
of  manual  training  who  see  it  chiefly  in  connexion  with 
different  forms  of  skilled  industry.  They  desire  to  obtain 
for  the  artizan  such  instruction  in  handicraft  as  may  pre- 
pare him  for  the  special  employment  of  his  life,  and  as 
may  make  all  the  difference  between  the  skilled  and  the 
unskilled  workman.  They  say  with  much  truth  that  the 
material  prosperity  of  a  country  depends  largely  on 
the  skill  and  knowledge  of  its  workers,  and  that  in  this 
country  we  have  paid  too  little  attention  to  the  sciences 
which  are  most  closely  connected  with  manual  industry. 
They  urge  the  need  of  more  technical  instruction  in 
order  to  obtain  for  this  country  a  better  place  in  the 
labour  market  and  a  larger  share  of  the  trade  and  manu- 
factures of  the  world. 

There  are  others  who,  without  seeking  to  prepare  the 
young  scholar  for  the  particular  form  of  handicraft  by 
which  he  is  to  get  his  living,  wish  to  provide  for  him  the 
means  of  obtaining  such  general  tactual  skill,  such  know- 
ledge of  the  properties  of  the  substances  which  have  to 
be  handled,  and  such  aptitude  in  the  use  of  tools,  as 
shall  make  him  readier  for  any  form  of  mechanical 
industry  which  he  may  happen  to  choose. 

A  third  class  of  advocates  of  manual  training  urge 
that  in  all  our  systems  of  general  education  the  memory, 
the  judgment,  and  the  purely  intellectual  faculties  have 
been  too  exclusively  cultivated,  and  that  the  discipline  of 
hand  and  eye  and  of  the  bodily  powers  generally  has  been 
too  much  neglected.  The  Spartan  training  of  the  bow 
and  the  palaestra  proceeded  on  the  assumption  that,  in 
fitting  a  man  for  the  business  of  life,  we  have  to  consider 
not  only  what  he  knows  but  what  he  can  do.  Is  he  deft 
with  his  fingers?  Can  he  run  and  swim,  handle  tools, 
use  all  his  physical  powers  with  promptitude  and  energy? 


Different  views  of  manual  training  147 

If  not,  the  Greeks  would  have  said  he  is  not  a  well- 
trained  or  complete  man:  his  education  is  deficient. 

There  is  a  fourth  class  of  persons  who  rank  as 
advocates  of  industrial  education  because  they  dislike 
intellectual  training  for  the  poor  and  the  humbler  classes 
altogether.  They  say,  in  effect,  We  must  have  a  prole- 
tariat. It  is  fitting  that  there  should  be  "hewers  of  wood 
and  drawers  of  water."  Let  us  train  the  lowest  class  of 
our  people  on  the  supposition  that  they  are  to  fulfil  this 
function.  For  them,  strength  of  limb,  hardihood,  handi- 
ness  are  needed.  Books,  and  the  sort  of  aspiration  which 
is  encouraged  by  books,  would  only  tempt  them  into 
employments  wherein,  possibly,  they  might  compete  with 
persons  of  a  higher  social  level,  and  become  inconvenient 
rivals.  The  education  of  the  artizan  should  not  be  too 
ambitious.  It  should  be  designed  to  fit  him  for  the 
humble  work  to  which  the  circumstances  of  his  birth 
have  called  him,  and  to  keep  him  in  this  lower  rank.  This 
sort  of  reasoning  is  hardly  avowed,  but  it  certainly  under- 
lies some  of  the  arguments  we  occasionally  hear  used  on 
this  subject.  Under  the  disguise  of  a  solicitude  in  favour 
of  more  practical  training  for  the  ploughman  or  the 
labourer,  there  exists  in  many  minds  a  deep  distrust  of 
the  value  of  mental  training  altogether  —  a  desire  to  use 
schools  as  a  means  of  maintaining  the  established  order 
of  society,  and  of  repressing  inconvenient  social  or  intel- 
lectual ambition.  In  short,  there  is  latent  in  the  thoughts 
of  many  people,  who  would  hardly  like  to  acknowledge  it, 
a  wish  to  restrict  the  instruction  of  artizans  to  the  special 
work  of  their  trades,  not  necessarily  because  they  will 
thereby  do  that  work  better,  but  because  it  is  believed 
that  they  will  be  practically  disqualified  for  attempting 
anything  else. 

For  the  present,  we  need  not  dwell  either  on  the 


148  Hand  work  and  head  work 

motives  or  the  projects  of  this  last  class,  except  perhaps 
for  the  purpose,  with  which  I  hope  this  audience  at  least 
will  sympathize,  of  earnestly  repudiating  them.  But  we 
ought  not  to  overlook  the  fact  that  the  class  is  neither 
small  nor  uninfluential  in  the  world  in  which  we  live, 
and  that  its  existence  as  a  potent  though  unacknowledged 
factor  in  our  educational  controversies  cannot  altogether 
be  disregarded. 

First  of  all,  it  is  well  to  look  at  the  industrial  and 
commercial  side  of  the  problem,  and  to  consider  how 
our  material  wealth  may  be  increased  by  a  fuller  and 
more  systematic  manual  training.  This  is  not  the  first 
business  of  a  school  teacher,  but  it  is  one  which  cannot 
be  overlooked. 
Appren-  In  earlier  times  the  skilled  workman  was  trained  as 

ucesnp.  an  apprentiCe.  No  one  could,  in  the  Middle  Ages,  hope 
to  become  a  member  of  any  trade  guild  who  had  not 
served  a  regular  apprenticeship  under  a  master.  An 
apprenticeship  was  a  reality.  The  relations  which  sub- 
sisted between  Edward  Osborne,  or  the  apprentices  of 
Simon  the  Glover,  in  the  "  Fair  Maid  of  Perth,"  or  young 
Tappertit,  the  locksmith's  apprentice,  and  their  masters, 
were,  in  an  industrial  sense,  those  of  sons  to  a  parent. 
The  master  worked  side  by  side  with  the  youths,  cared 
for  them  as  inmates  of  his  house,  and  was  proud  of  their 
successes  when  they  joined  the  ranks  of  skilled  workmen. 
That  state  of  things  has  passed  away,  never  to  return. 
There  are,  all  over  England,  endowments  for  apprentice- 
ship, survivals  from  a  time  when  they  served  a  valuable 
purpose ;  but  they  serve  no  such  purpose  now.  They 
are  more  often  disguised  doles  to  parents,  contributions 
to  a  lad's  maintenance  before  he  is  able  to  earn  the  whole 
of  his  living;  but  they  do  not  help  him  to  obtain  system- 
atic instruction  in  the  art  and  mystery  of  an  honest  craft. 


Apprenticeship  149 


The  conditions  of  industrial  life  are  wholly  changed. 
The  concentration  of  manufactures  into  large  establish- 
ments, increased  use  of  machinery,  the  division  of  labour, 
the  keenness  and  restlessness  of  modern  competition, 
are  all  inconsistent  with  the  old  conception  of  appren- 
ticeship. The  master  does  not  live  with  his  young 
assistants;  he  hands  them  over  to  foremen  who  are  often 
themselves  comparatively  untaught  mechanics,  familiar 
only  with  one  particular  department  of  work,  and  in- 
capable of  giving  instruction  in  the  trade  as  a  whole. 

Now,  what  should  be  the  modern  substitute  for  this 
interesting  but  now  obsolete  system  of  apprenticeship? 
We  want  as  much  as  ever,  nay  much  more  than  ever,  intel- 
ligence and  good  training  on  the  part  of  our  workmen. 
But  it  is  clear  that  this  must  now  be  sought  in  a  different 
way.  We  must  begin  recognizing  that  it  is  discreditable 
to  a  man  of  any  self-respect  to  handle  every  day  materials 
of  whose  qualities  he  is  ignorant,  and  to  employ  natural 
forces,  machines,  and  instruments,  the  nature  of  which  he 
has  never  cared  to  investigate.  There  is  a  science  under- 
lying every  art  however  humble;  and  the  main  difference 
between  the  unskilled  and  the  skilled  workman  is,  that 
the  one  knows,  and  the  other  does  not  know,  something 
about  that  science  and  about  the  meaning  of  what  he  is 
doing.  And  for  the  acquisition  of  this  knowledge,  as 
well  as  for  due  practice  in  the  right  manipulation  of 
tools  and  instruments,  we  must  look  in  these  days  rather 
to  schools  and  technical  institutes,  than  to  the  industrial 
pupil-teachership  which  was  once  known  under  the  name 
of  the  apprentice  system. 

On  the  continent  of  Europe,  especially  in  France  and  &coles 

Belgium,  there  are  institutions  known  as  "  Ecoles  des ..  APPren~ 
0  tissage. 

Arts  et  des  Metiers  "  which  seek  to  supply  this  want.     I 
visited,  some  time  ago,  a  very  chriacteristic  establish- 


1 50  Hand  zvork  and  head  work 

ment  of  this  kind  at  Courtrai.  Its  professed  object  is  to 
encourage  the  introduction  of  new  industries,  to  form 
good  workmen  and  good  foremen,  to  inspire  them  with 
the  love  of  work  and  with  habits  of  order,  to  impress 
them  with  the  sense  of  social  and  religious  obligation, 
to  increase  the  means  of  subsistence,  and  to  arrest  the 
progress  of  pauperism. 

The  institution  with  this  large  and  comprehensive 
programme  has  an  extensive  building  devoted  partly  to 
the  purposes  of  general  instruction  and  partly  to  the 
ateliers  or  workshops.  The  minimum  age  of  admission 
is  twelve,  but  the  ordinary  age  is  fourteen.  The  course 
lasts  three  years.  No  one  is  admitted  who  has  not 
received  a  fair  elementary  education. 

The  course  of  general  instruction  comprises,  in  the 
first  year,  Drawing,  Arithmetic,  French  Language,  Prac- 
tical Geometry;  in  the  second  year,  Drawing,  French, 
Experimental  Physics,  Mechanics,  Geometry,  Inorganic 
Chemistry;  and  in  the  third  year,  Drawing,  Applied 
Mechanics  in  its  application  to  trades,  Knowledge  of 
Materials,  Organic  Chemistry,  Industrial  Economy,  the 
Calculus. 

Six  ateliers  are  attached  to  the  Institute  —  (1)  Me- 
chanical construction;  (2)  a  Foundry;  (3)  Furniture; 
(4)  Electricity  and  its  applications;  (5)  Hosiery;  (6) 
Weaving.  Each  of  these  is  under  the  care  of  a  skilled 
director,  chosen  partly  for  his  practical  knowledge  of  the 
business,  and  partly  for  his  scientific  acquaintance  with 
the  principles  on  which  the  particular  industry  depends. 
The  workshops  are  real  places  of  business,  and  are  not 
educational  only.  They  produce  machines,  electrical 
and  other  apparatus,  furniture,  and  articles  of  many 
kinds,  which  are  sold  in  the  market  at  a  profit.  A  sub- 
stantial part  of  every  day  is  spent  by  each  student  in  the 


Ecoles  d? Apprentissage  151 

workshops,  the  work  being  regularly  graduated  in  diffi- 
culty, and  carried  on  under  supervision.  But  it  is  notable 
that  from  two  to  three  hours  per  day  are  devoted  to 
ancillary  studies,  not  exclusively  industrial  or  mechani- 
cal, but  calculated  to  secure  pari  passu  the  development  of 
the  students'  intelligence.  Hence,  exercises  in  language 
are  continued  during  the  whole  course.  Drawing,  design, 
and  geometry  are  part  of  the  routine  prescribed  for  every 
student;  while  courses  on  electricity,  chemistry,  strength 
of  materials,  mechanics,  etc.,  are  given  to  each  group  of 
learners  to  correspond  to  the  special  character  of  the 
department  of  industry  to  which  they  are  severally 
attached.  In  the  last  year  there  is  a  special  course  of 
lectures  on  Economic  Science  and  the  laws  which  regulate 
industrial  life  and  progress  —  e.g.  Production,  Division 
of  Labour,  Capital,  Money,  Banking,  Partition  of  Profits, 
Partnership,  Wages,  Trades  Unions,  Strikes,  Savings, 
Investment,  Credit,  Direct  and  Indirect  Taxation.  Visits 
to  neighbouring  factories  and  industrial  centres  are  regu- 
larly organized,  especially  in  the  third  year  of  training, 
and  after  each  visit  a  full  account,  with  illustrative  draw- 
ings and  descriptions,  is  required  of  every  pupil.  An 
elaborate  scientific  and  general  library,  with  abundance 
of  drawings  and  plans  of  famous  machines  and  factories, 
is  accessible  to  the  students. 

Now,  the  object  of  such  an  institute  is  technical 
instruction  in  its  definite  relation  to  the  particular  form 
of  skilled  industry  which  the  student  proposes  to  adopt 
as  the  business  of  his  life.  It  has  an  essentially 
economic  and  industrial  purpose.  That  purpose  is,  to 
provide  for  the  future  masters,  foremen,  and  captains  of 
industry  a  sound  professional  training.  But  it  is  to  be 
observed  that,  from  the  first,  mental  cultivation  by  means 
of  language  and  abstract  science,  and  the  investigation 


152  Hand  work  and  head  work 


of  principles,  is  regarded  as  an  indispensable  part  of 

this  training.     There  is,  on  the  part  of  the  enlightened 

founders  of  this  institution,  even  though  its  object  is  so 

distinctively  utilitarian,  no  belief   in  any  antagonism  or 

inconsistency  between  hand  work  and  head  work.     The 

two  are  regarded  as  inseparably  connected. 

Techno-  And  the  same  may  be  said,  in  different  degrees,  of 

logical        those  other  institutions  which  are  now  coming  into  pro- 
Institutes.       .  &  i 

minence  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic  under  the  name  of 

Technical  or  Science  Schools.  These  are  in  no  sense 
factories,  and  do  not  profess  to  carry  on  a  business,  but 
their  aim  is  more  purely  educational.  The  most  remark- 
able example  of  the  kind  in  the  United  States  is  the  Massa- 
chusetts Institute  of  Technology  in  Boston.  Here  there 
is  a  sumptuous  building,  admirably  equipped,  not  only 
with  chemical  and  physical  laboratories,  but  also  with 
departments  for  the  study  of  mechanical  engineering,  of 
electricity,  of  architecture,  of  biology  with  a  view  to  the 
requirements  of  medical  students,  of  heat  and  ventilation, 
of  mining  and  metallurgy.  The  characteristic  feature  of 
the  institution  is  that  in  every  department  practical  work 
supplements  oral  or  book-teaching.  The  student  is 
required,  as  soon  as  he  knows  anything,  to  do  something 
which  requires  the  application  of  his  knowledge.  There 
are  upwards  of  800  students  in  the  three  departments  of 
Practical  Design,  Mechanic  Art,  and  Industrial  Science. 
All  of  them  must  have  passed  successfully  through  a 
good  course  of  grammar  and  high  school  instruction 
before  entering;  and  all  of  them  are  looking  forward  to 
becoming  either  masters  or  superintendents  in  factories 
or  houses  of  business. 
The  York-  In  England  a  characteristic  example  of  the  many 
]  6  f  m°dern  institutions  of  a  similar  type  is  the  Yorkshire 
Science.      College  of  Science.     It  is  situated  in  Leeds,  in  the  centre 


Technological  Institutes  153 

of  the  great  cloth  industry,  where  dyeing,  weaving,  and 
cognate  processes  form  the  chief  employments  of  the 
people.  Besidescostlyand  elaborate  provision  in  the  form 
of  laboratories,  lecture-rooms,  and  libraries,  designed  both 
for  theoretical  and  practical  instruction,  there  are  large 
departments  especially  devoted  to  dyeing  and  weaving. 
In  one  room  you  may  see  a  group  of  students  each  before 
his  own  table  manipulating  his  apparatus,  and  making 
his  own  experiments  in  the  application  of  different 
colouring  matters  to  different  fabrics.  Each  student 
makes  a  written  statement  of  the  nature  of  the  material 
on  which  he  works,  the  chemical  composition  of  his 
pigments,  the  time  occupied  by  the  process,  the  pheno- 
mena of  change  observable  while  it  lasted.  Then  he 
places  his  memoranda  with  a  specimen  of  the  coloured 
piece  of  cloth  itself  in  a  book  as  a  permanent  record  of 
the  experiment  for  future  reference.  The  weaving  labo- 
ratory is,  in  some  respects,  a  still  more  curious  and  novel 
department.  Each  student  has  a  small  hand-loom,  on 
which  he  himself  works,  and  on  which  he  is  encouraged 
to  try  all  kinds  of  new  artifices  for  combining  warp  and 
woof  of  different  textures  and  colours,  and  for  inventing 
new  patterns.  In  another  laboratory,  which  can  be 
wholly  or  partially  darkened  for  the  purpose,  there  is  a 
special  series  of  investigation  into  the  nature  of  light  and 
colour,  and  students  are  helped  to  understand  truths 
about  the  science  of  optics,  not  only  by  actual  experi- 
ment, but  also  to  a  large  extent  by  making  for  themselves 
some  of  the  apparatus  by  which  those  experiments  are 
conducted.  In  short,  in  this  and  many  more  great 
modern  institutions  than  I  have  time  here  to  enumerate, 
we  have  almost  a  full  realization  of  Bacon's  dream  in 
the  'New  Atlantis,'  of  Solomon's  House,  with  its  mani- 
fold chambers  of  experiment  and   observation.      It   is 


1 54  Hand  work  and  head  work 


a  distinct  addition  to  the  material  resources  of  our  own 
time,  and  a  solution  to  many  economical  difficulties. 

The  Technical  Institute  of  the  City  and  Guilds  of 
London  is  in  like  manner  a  noble  example  of  an  institu- 
tion in  which  it  is  sought  successfully  to  give  to  those 
who  are  to  be  leaders  and  captains  of  industry,  a  fuller 
knowledge  of  the  sciences  connected  with  their  several 
trades.  Men  thus  trained  will  on  entering  the  ranks  of 
labour  make  fewer  mistakes,  will  initiate  more  fruitful 
experiments,  and  will  economize  better  the  materials  on 
which  they  have  to  work.  But  it  can  hardly  be  said  that 
at  present  either  in  such  institutes  nor  in  the  various 
classes  carried  on  with  so  much  vigour  by  the  London 
County  Council,  for  the  teaching  of  building  construction, 
metal  trades,  book  and  printing  work,  leather,  carpen- 
tering and  other  industries,  so  much  attention  has  been 
paid  as  in  Germany,  in  Switzerland,  and  in  France  to 
the  need  of  general  mental  cultivation  as  the  basis  of 
technical  instruction.  Our  technical  schools  are  for  the 
most  part  places  of  manual  and  scientific  instruction  only; 
and  the  constant  complaint  of  the  authorities  is  that  the 
scholars  come  to  the  institutes  too  soon,  before  they  have 
received  that  discipline  in  general  intelligence  which  is 
a  necessary  preliminary  for  making  a  right  use  of  the 
specific  training  proper  to  particular  trades. 

In  France  this  difficulty  is  met  partly  by  insisting  that 
no  one  shall  enter  the  apprentice  school  unless  he  or  she 
has  obtained  the  certificat  d*  etudes primaires testifying  that 
the  ordinary  primary  school  course  has  been  success- 
fully completed;  and  partly  by  requiring  that  intellectual 
exercises  shall  in  all  cases  be  carried  on  pari  passu  with 
manual  exercises. 

On  this  point  let  me  cite  some  of  my  own  experience 
when  engaged  in  an  official  enquiry  into  some  conti- 


French  technical  schools  155 

nental  schools.     It  is  taken  from  a  paper  presented  to 
Parliament  in  the  year  1891. 

Of  the  institutions  with  a  well-defined  and  directly  (1)  for 
practical  object,  the  Ecole  professioiielle  menagere  in  the,i>  9' 
Rue  Fo ndary,  for  girls,  and  the  Ecole  Diderot  for  boys  are 
sufficiently  remarkable  to  justify  a  brief  description  here. 
Each  of  them  may  be  regarded  mainly  as  an  apprentice 
school  in  which  the  pupil  is  learning  the  particular  art  or 
trade  by  which  he  or  she  intends  to  get  a  living.  But 
neither  is  a  mere  trade  school,  for  intellectual  instruction 
receives  much  attention  in  both.  In  the  girls'  school, 
the  day  is  divided  into  two  parts,  the  morning  being 
devoted  to  the  general  education  presumably  required 
by  all  the  pupils  alike,  and  the  afternoon  to  the  special 
businesses  which  they  have  respectively  chosen.  From 
half-past  eight  to  half-past  eleven  the  work  includes 
advanced  elementary  instruction  generally,  exercises  in 
French  language  and  composition,  book-keeping  (for 
French  women  are  very  largely  employed  in  keeping 
accounts),  one  foreign  language,  English  or  German  at 
the  parents'  choice,  and  such  practice  in  drawing  and 
design  as  has  a  special  bearing  on  the  trade  or  employ- 
ment to  which  the  pupil  is  destined.  Thus,  those  who 
are  to  be  dressmakers  or  milliners  draw  patterns  of  differ- 
ent articles  of  dress,  are  taught  to  paint  them  artistically, 
and  to  invent  new  patterns  and  combinations  of  colour 
and  ornament;  those  who  are  to  be  fleuristes  draw  and 
paint  flowers  from  nature,  and  group  and  arrange  them 
after  their  own  designs.  Besides  this,  V enseignement  du 
menage  or  household  management  and  needlework  form 
part  of  the  instruction  given  to  all  the  pupils.  Articles 
of  dress  are  cut  out,  and  made  for  sale  or  use,  and  on 
certain  days  clothing  which  needs  repair  may  be  brought 
from   home   and  mended  under  the   direction  of    the 


1 56  Hand  work  and  head  work 


mistress.  The  pupils  are  told  off  eight  at  a  time  to  spend 
the  mornings  of  a  whole  week  in  the  kitchen.  Since  all 
the  pupils  take  their  dejeuner  daily  in  the  establishment, 
there  is  necessarily  a  large  demand  for  the  services  of 
these  cooks.  The  sum  to  be  expended  per  day  is  care- 
fully restricted,  and  the  pupils  learn  under  the  direction 
of  the  head  of  the  kitchen  how  to  prepare  a  menu,  and 
to  vary  it  from  day  to  day,  and  are  expected  to  go  out  in 
turn  and  make  the  necessary  purchases  in  the  market. 
The  girls  who  are  responsible  for  the  week's  provision 
are  required  to  keep  full  accounts  of  the  expenditure, 
and  as  they  become  more  experienced  each  is  invited  in 
turn  to  devise  a  new  menu,  and  to  suggest  ways  in  which 
the  sum  granted  by  the  municipality  can  be  best  econo- 
mized. For  their  services,  the  eight  chosen  pupils  of  the 
week  receive  their  own  meals  gratuitously,  all  other 
scholars  paying  for  theirs  at  cost  price.  The  afternoon 
of  every  day  is  devoted  to  the  practice,  under  skilled 
instructresses,  of  millinery,  dressmaking,  artificial  flower 
making,  embroidery,  and  other  feminine  arts.  Orders 
are  received  from  ladies,  and  articles  are  made  and 
ornamented  by  the  pupils  and  sold  at  a  profit. 
(2)  for  In  the  Ecole    Diderot  for  youths  from    13   to   16  a 

arttzans.  svaAXax  general  plan  prevails.  There  is  an  entrance 
examination,  which  is  practically  competitive.  The 
mornings  are  spent  in  the  class  or  in  lecture-rooms  under 
the  care  of  professors  in  language,  mathematics,  chemistry 
and  physics,  history,  geography,  design,  geometrical  and 
artistic,  and  comptabilite.  The  pupil  elects  one  modern 
language,  German  or  English,  at  his  discretion.  Written 
reports  are  also  required  of  visits  to  factories,  and 
descriptions  with  drawings  of  machines  and  instruments. 
The  afternoons  are  spent  in  the  workshops.  During  the 
first  year  a  boy  visits  each  of  these  in  turn,  gets  some 


French  technical  schools  157 


elementary  knowledge  about  tools  and  their  uses,  but 
does  not  select  his  metier  until  the  beginning  of  the 
second  year.  Then,  when  he  has  been  helped  to  dis- 
cover his  own  special  aptitude,  the  choice  is  before  him. 
There  are  the  forge,  the  engine  house,  the  carpenter's 
shop,  the  modelling  room,  the  turning  lathes,  the  uphol- 
sterer's department,  and  the  work-room  in  which  instru- 
ments of  precision  are  used  for  making  electrical  or  other 
scientific  apparatus.  When  he  has  selected  one  of  these, 
he  devotes  the  afternoons  of  the  remaining  two  years  of 
his  course  to  learning,  under  a  skilled  director,  the  art 
and  mystery  of  his  special  craft.  In  the  workshops, 
articles  are  made  and  finished  for  the  market,  many  of 
the  desks,  forms,  and  black-boards,  for  example,  required 
in  the  Paris  school-rooms  being  manufactured  in  the 
carpenter's  department.  In  this  way  some  part  of  the 
generous  provision  made  by  the  municipality  for  afford- 
ing gratuitous  technical  instruction  is  rendered  back  in 
the  form  of  profit. 

The  most  striking  feature  of  these  two  great  trade  The  trade 
schools  is  the  association  in  them  of  general  and  special Jf  °fs  no, 
training.     There  is  in  them  no  attempt  to  divorce  hand  technical. 
work  from  head  work,  or  to  treat  the  first  as  a  substitute 
for  the  second.     The  girl  who  is  to  be  a  modiste  or  a 
brodeuse  is  to  be  that  and  something  more.     The  boy 
who  is  to  be  a  joiner  or  an  engineer  is  also  to  know 
something  of  literature  and  science.     The  morning  of 
every  day  is  devoted  to  intellectual  exercise,   and  no 
pupil  who  fails  to  attend  the  morning  classes  is  permitted 
to  enter  the  atelier  in  the  afternoon.      "I  think,"  said 
M.  Bocquet,  the  very  able  director  of  the  Ecole  Diderot, 
to  me,  "that  the  training  in  art,  in  science,  and  in  litera- 
ture in  our  morning  classes  is  the  best  part  of  our  day's 
work.       I   should    not  value    any   technical  or   manual 


158  Hand  work  and  head  work 

training  which  was  carried  on  without  it."  While  I  was 
talking  to  him  a  youth  brought  up  a  design  he  had  been 
modelling  to  shew  his  master.  "Ah  !  "  said  M.  Bocquet, 
"I  see,  that  has  been  done  with  your  hands:  there  has 
been  no  head  work  in  it.  Take  it  back,  and  think  about  it 
a  little  more,  and  I  do  not  doubt  that  you  will  improve  it." 
It  is  in  this  spirit  that  manual  training  appears  to  me  to 
be  finding  its  true  place  m  the  French  schools,  not  as  a 
new  instrument  of  education  in  rivalry  with  the  old,  but 
as  part  of  a  rounded  and  coherent  system  of  discipline, 
designed  to  bring  into  harmony  both  the  physical  and 
intellectual  forces  of  the  future  workman,  and  to  make 
them  helpful  to  each  other. 
Educa-  I  spoke  of  a  third  view  of  the  subject  of  technical 

tional  instruction  —  that  which  regards  hand  and  eye  training 
manual  per  se  as  an  essential  part  of  human  culture,  apart  alto- 
traimng.  gether  from  its  value  as  a  help  in  doing  the  business  of 
life.  The  advocates  of  this  view  cite  Rousseau,  and 
Frdbel,  and  Pestalozzi,  and  urge  with  truth  that  the 
brain  is  not  the  only  organ  which  should  be  developed 
in  a  school;  that,  to  do  justice  to  the  whole  sum  of 
human  powers  and  activities,  there  should  be  due  exercise 
for  the  senses,  and  definite  practice  in  the  use  of  the 
fingers  and  the  bodily  powers.  They  do  not  want  to 
specialize  the  work  of  the  primary  school  with  a  view  to 
the  production  of  economic  results.  One  of  the  ablest 
writers  on  this  subject,  Mr  James  MacAlister,  Superin- 
tendent of  the  Public  Schools  of  Philadelphia,  puts  the 
case  clearly:  "The  object  of  the  public  school  is  educa- 
tion in  its  broadest  sense.  If  industrial  training  cannot 
be  shewn  to  be  education  in  this  sense,  it  has  no  place 
in  the  public  school.  We  have  no  more  right  to  teach 
carpentry  and  bookbinding  than  we  have  to  teach  law 
and  medicine.     The  supreme  end  of  education  is  the 


Educational  value  of  manual  training       I  59 

harmonious  development  of  all  the  powers  of  a  human 
being.  Whatever  ministers  to  this  end  is  education ;  what- 
ever interferes  with  its  accomplishment,  no  matter  how 
valuable  it  is,  lies  outside  of  the  province  of  the  school." 

I  think  this  is  the  aspect  of  the  whole  controversy 
which  is  most  interesting  and  significant  to  us  as  teachers. 
Grant  that  the  Trade  School  and  the  Technological  Insti- 
tureare  fulfilling  an  important  economic  purpose,  yet  they 
do  not  belong  to  our  immediate  domain.  The  question 
arises,  Can  hand  work  claim  a  place  in  a  well-considered 
scheme  of  genera]  school  education;  and,  if  so,  what  place? 

Some  of  the  experience  in  the  English  elementary  77^, 
schools  is  very  significant  in  its  bearing  on  this  question.  Frobelian 
In  nearly  all  of  these  schools  there  is  an  infant  department 
or  class  for  scholars  below  and  up  to  the  age  of  7.  Up  to 
1 880  the  main  subjects  of  instruction  in  these  infant  depart- 
ments were  the  rudiments  of  reading,  writing,  and  arith- 
metic, with  a  few  occasional  lessons  on  objects,  and  on 
form  and  colour;  and  the  chief  test  of  the  efficiency  of 
such  schools  applied  by  the  inspector  was  an  examination 
in  the  elements  of  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic.  But 
when  the  Code  of  instruction  was  recast  in  1881,  the 
requirements  of  the  infant  school  were  so  enlarged  as  to 
include  not  only  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic  and 
lessons  on  subjects  and  on  the  phenomena  of  nature  and 
of  common  life,  but  also  varied  and  interesting  manual 
exercises  and  employments.  And  since  that  date  no 
infant  school  has  been  able  to  claim  the  highest  rank 
unless  it  satisfied  the  inspector  in  this  last  particular.  In 
other  words,  the  kindergarten  system  and  the  little  gifts 
and  manual  occupations. devised  by  Frobel  have  become 
a  recognized  part  of  the  system  of  early  training  in  the 
English  schools.  So  you  have  marching  and  drill,  plait- 
ing and  moulding,  the  building  up  of  wooden  bricks  in 


l6o  Hand  work  and  //cad  work 


different  forms,  drawing,  cutting  little  patterns,  weaving, 
and  many  other  employments  designed  to  give  delicacy 
to  the  touch,  keenness  to  the  observant  powers,  a  sense 
of  beauty  in  form  and  colours,  and  the  power  to  use  the 
fingers  with  dexterity  and  care.  Teachers  have  been 
specially  warned  in  the  'Instructions  to  Her  Majesty's 
Inspectors  '  that  "  it  is  of  no  use  to  adopt  the  gifts  and 
mere  mechanical  exercises  of  the  kindergarten  unless 
they  are  so  used  as  to  furnish  real  training  in  observa- 
tion, in  accuracy  of  hand  and  eye,  and  in  attention  and 
obedience." 

Two  results  have  followed  the  trial  of  this  experiment. 
It  has  been  found  that  the  infant  schools  have  become 
much  more  attractive  to  the  little  ones  and  to  their 
parents,  that  order  is  more  easily  obtained,  and  that  the 
infant  schools  are  happier  and  more  cheerful  places  than 
they  once  were.  And  the  other  result  is  not  less  impor- 
tant. It  is  seen  also  that  children  who  have  been  thus 
trained  pass  the  simple  examinations  in  reading,  writing, 
and  arithmetic,  appropriate  to  the  eighth  year,  not  less 
satisfactorily  and  much  more  easily  than  before.  The 
withdrawal  of  some  of  the  hours  of  the  day  for  varied 
manual  occupations,  so  far  from  diminishing  the  chance 
of  progress  in  the  ordinary  departments  of  school  instruc- 
tion, has  had  the  effect  of  accelerating  that  progress, 
by  means  of  the  general  quickening  of  intelligence  and 
increase  of  power  developed  by  the  kindergarten. 
Sweden  This  view  of  the  relation  between  manual  work  and 

an 7  -^  general  culture  may  be  further  illustrated  by  what  is  done 
in  Sweden  under  the  name  of  Slojd.  There  is  much 
exercise  in  wood-carving  and  in  the  use  of  tools.  At 
Gothenburg  and  at  Naas,  manual  instruction  is  begun  at 
the  age  of  ten  or  eleven,  and  the  scholars  are  drafted  into 
the  workshops  for  two  or   three  hours  of  every  week. 


The  Brussels  Ecole  ModUe  161 

There  is  a  carpenter's  shop,  a  forge,  a  room  for  the  cut- 
ting and  manipulating  of  paper  patterns  and  ornaments, 
a  painting  and  decoration  school,  and  a  factory  for  the 
making  of  baskets,  toys,  and  other  fabrics.  The  object 
of  the  first  year's  course  is  mainly  to  give  to  the  pupil 
not  merely  general  aptitude  but  a  respect  for  manual 
labour.  In  this  way  he  is  helped  in  his  second  year  to 
discover  his  own  metier  and  to  devote  himself  to  it.  In 
the  words  of  one  of  the  ablest  writers  and  observers  of 
the  system,  M.  Sluys,  of  Brussels:  — "The  object  aimed 
at  is  purely  pedagogic.  Manual  labour  is  considered  as 
an  educative  instrument,  holding  a  rank  equal  to  that  of 
other  branches  of  the  programme." 

There  is  a  remarkable  school  in  Brussels  called  the  The 

Model  School,  which  provides  for  pupils  from  the  ape  of  f,c  ,?, 

1  l    l  °         Modele  at 

six  to  sixteen,  and  gives  a  very  efficient  and  liberal  Brussels. 
education,  including  language,  mathematics,  and  physical 
science,  according  to  the  most  approved  modern  types. 
In  this  school  the  experiment  has  been  tried  of  carrying 
forward  the  theories  of  Frdbel  all  through  the  classes 
from  the  lowest  to  the  highest.  Up  to  six,  the  ordinary 
employments  of  the  Kindergarten  are  systematically 
pursued.  From  six  to  eight,  similar  exercises  of  a  more 
artistic  character,  chiefly  modelling,  arc  used.  From 
eight  to  ten,  the  chief  employments  are  those  included 
under  the  general  heading  cartonnage,  the  cutting  out 
and  fixing  of  paper  patterns  in  all  sorts  of  geometrical 
and  ornamental  forms.  From  ten  to  twelve,  wood- 
carving  is  the  chief  employment;  while  in  the  higher 
classes  artistic  and  decorative  work  in  wood,  metal,  and 
other  materials  is  required  from  every  pupil. 

Let  me  give  you,  from  my  own  evidence  before  a 
recent  Royal  Commission,   a   description   of   what  was 
going  on  in  a  class  of  children  about  ten  years  old  whom 
M 


1 62  Hand  work  and  head  work 

I  found  at  work  in  the  Ecole  Modele.  "  There  was  a  con- 
tinuous black-board  round  the  room;  it  was  marked  off  in 
sections,  and  each  child  stood  in  front,  and  had  on  a  shelf, 
clay,  a  graduated  metrical  rule,  a  little  wooden  instrument 
for  manipulating  the  clay,  compasses,  and  chalk.  The 
master  stood  in  the  middle  of  the  room  and  said,  'Now 
draw  a  horizontal  line  five  centimetres  long,'  and  he 
walked  round  and  saw  that  it  was  done.  'Now  draw, 
at  an  angle  of  450,  another  line  three  centimetres  long.' 
And  so  by  a  series  of  directions  he  got  them  all  to  pro- 
duce a  predetermined  geometrical  pattern  of  his  own, 
'Now,'  he  said,  'take  clay  and  fasten  it  on  to  the 
outside,  making  of  it  an  ornamental  framework,  and  let 
it  be  exactly  such  a  fraction  of  a  metre  thick.'  They 
worked  it  round  with  the  help  of  the  instrument.  Then 
he  said  at  the  end,  'Now  which  of  you  thinks  he  can  do 
anything  to  improve  it,  and  make  it  more  ornamental? ' 
And  some  by  means  of  the  compasses,  and  some  by 
means  of  the  rule  or  by  fixing  pieces  of  clay,  placed  little 
additional  decoration  at  the  corners  or  round  the  border. 
At  the  end  of  the  lesson  every  child  had  before  him  a 
different  design.  That  was  throughout  an  exercise,  not 
in  hand  work  only,  but  in  intelligence,  in  measurement, 
in  taste,  and  in  inventiveness.  It  illustrated  a  real  educa- 
tional process.  I  should  like  very  much  to  see  some- 
thing of  that  sort  introduced  into  the  English  schools."  x 
We  have  not,  it  is  true,  yet  advanced  so  far.  Indeed, 
it  is  observable  that,  even  in  Belgium,  the  school  I  refer 
to  is  an  exceptional  institution,  in  no  sense  typical  of  the 
ordinary  "Communal  School."  But  all  the  recent  regu- 
lations of  our  English  Education  Department  emphasize 
strongly  the  importance  of  drawing,  and  offer  increased 

1  Report  of  Royal  Commission  on  Education,  Vol.  III.,  Question 
57,667. 


The  Brussels  Ecole  Modele  163 

encouragement  to  its  universal  adoption  in  our  primary 
schools.  And  of  drawing  it  may  at  least  be  said,  that  it 
is  the  one  form  of  manual  art  most  certainly  educational 
in  its  aim  and  character,  most  generally  applicable  to 
all  the  business  of  life,  and  least  likely  to  degenerate  into 
mechanical  routine.  Carpentering,  work  in  metal,  or  in 
paper,  may  easily,  when  the  difficulty  of  handling  tools 
has  once  been  overcome,  become  very  unintelligent  and 
monotonous  processes.  But  drawing  and  design  afford 
infinite  scope  for  new  development  and  varied  inven- 
tion. Whatever  educational  value  they  possess  at  first, 
they  continue  to  possess  as  long  as  they  are  pursued  at 
all.  And  this  is  more  than  can  be  safely  said  of  many 
other  forms  of  hand  work. 

The  chief  points  noticeable  in  all  these  exercises  are : 

(1)  That  they  are  always  connected  with  drawing, 
measurement,  accurate  knowledge,  and  some  exercise  in 
thinking;   and  are  never   isolated,   or  simply  manual. 

(2)  That  they  are  superintended  by  the  director  of  studies 
and  co-ordinated  with  other  work,  not  handed  over  to 
artizan  specialists;  and  (3)  that  the  manual  exercises  do 
not  occupy  more  than  two  hours  a  week  of  the  ordinary 
school  course.  They  supplement  the  usual  intellectual 
instruction,  but  are  in  no  sense  substitutes  for  it. 

I   found,   for  each  of   the  several  forms  of  manual  Educa- 
exercise  adopted  in  the  Ecole  Modele  —  for  modelling,  t,0"al 

1  °    influence 

for  basket-making,  for  wood-carving,  and  for  working  in  of  manual 
metals  — the  teachers  had  been  at  the  pains  to  make  out  tyauu"S- 
from  the  results  of  their  experience  a  special  tabulated 
report,  showing  the  effect  of  the  exercise  on  general 
power,  on  the  habit  of  attention,  on  order,  on  cleanliness, 
on  the  aesthetic  faculty,  on  physical  vigour  generally, 
and  on  manual  skill.  All  the  exercises  did  not  profess 
to  serve  equally  the  same  purpose,  but  each  was  found  in 


1 64  Hand  work  and  head  work 

its  own  way  to  serve  one  or  more  of  these  purposes  in 

different  degrees. 

The  tabulated  statement  of  the  results  which  is  here 

given  (p.  165)  is  not  a  little  curious. 
The psv-  Some   larger  principles  than  those  affecting  handi- 

chologual   ness  or  manual  skill  are  involved  when  we  proceed  to 

reason  for  ....  .  ,  ,  ,  , 

it.  inquire  whether  the  modern  demand  for  hand-culture  is 

a  passing  fashion,  or  whether  it  is  to  be  justified  by  a 
real  insight  into  the  philosophy  of  education,  and  the 
constitution  and  needs  of  human  nature.  I  think  there 
is  a  good  answer  to  this  question.  A  true  psychology, 
when  it  comes  to  be  applied  to  the  practical  business  of 
teaching,  shows  us  that  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  is 
not  the  only  means  by  which  the  human  soul  can  be 
enriched  and  the  future  man  provided  with  his  outfit  for 
the  business  of  life.  His  training  should,  of  course, 
enable  him  to  know  much  that  he  would  not  otherwise 
know;  but  it  should  also  enable  him  to  see  much  that 
he  would  not  otherwise  see,  and  to  do  what  he  would  not 
otherwise  do.  Books  alone  cannot  fulfil  this  purpose. 
It  is  not  only  by  receiving  ideas,  but  by  giving  them 
expression,  that  we  become  the  better  for  what  we  learn. 
A  thought  received,  and  not  expressed  or  given  out  again 
in  some  form,  can  hardly  be  said  to  have  been  appro- 
priated at  all.  We  have  long  recognized  this  truth  within 
the  limited  area  of  book-study,  for  we  demand  of  our 
pupils  that  they  shall  use  a  language  as  well  as  acquire 
it.  But,  after  all,  language  is  not  the  only  instrument  of 
expression.  There  are  many  other  ways  in  which  thought 
can  find  utterance.  It  may  take  the  form  of  delineation, 
of  modelling,  of  design,  of  invention,  of  some  product  of 
the  skilled  hand,  the  physical  powers,  or  the  finer  sense. 
Of  course,  the  value  of  any  vehicle  of  expression  depends 
entirely  on  what  you  have  to  express.     If  the  mind  is 


Educational  results  of  manual  training      165 


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1 66  Hand  work  and  head  work 

barren  of  ideas,  there  can  be  no  worthy  outcome,  either 
through  hand  or  voice.  Ideas  and  materials  for  thinking 
are  no  doubt  largely  obtainable  from  books.  But  the 
study  of  form  and  colour  is  in  its  way  as  full  of  suggestion 
as  the  study  of  history.  The  love  of  the  beautiful  is  as 
inspiring  and  ennobling  a  factor  in  human  development 
as  the  love  of  the  true.  Drawing,  representation,  con- 
struction, and  decorative  work  are  educational  processes 
as  real  and  vital  as  reading  and  writing;  they  touch  as 
nearly  the  springs  of  all  that  is  best  in  human  character. 
They  may  have  results  as  valuable  and  as  far-reaching. 
Professor  Fiske  has  wisely  said,  —  "  In  a  very  deep  sense, 
all  human  science  is  but  the  increment  of  the  power  of 
the  eye,  and  all  human  art  is  but  the  increment  of  the 
power  of  the  hand.  Vision  and  manipulation  — these  in 
countless,  indirect,  and  transfigured  forms,  are  the  two 
co-operating  factors  in  all  intellectual  progress."  We  may 
safely  admit  all  this,  and  yet  not  lose  sight  of  the  fact 
that,  after  all,  the  main  factors  in  both  art  and  science 
are  the  intellectual  power,  the  reflection,  the  number  of 
ideas,  the  spiritual  insight  which  lie  behind  the  merely 
physical  powers  of  vision  and  manipulation,  and  which 
give  to  those  powers  all  their  value. 
Variety  of  One  of  the  strongest  arguments  which  justify  the 
ap  i  in  e.  recent  p0pUiarity  of  manual  training  is  that,  by  means  of 
it,  we  are  able  to  offer  an  opportunity  for  the  development 
of  special  talents  and  aptitudes  for  which  there  is  no 
adequate  scope  in  the  ordinary  school  course.  Every 
school  numbers  among  its  scholars  some  who  dislike 
books,  who  rebel  against  merely  verbal  and  memory 
exercises,  but  who  delight  in  coming  into  contact  with 
things,  with  objects  to  be  touched  and  shaped,  to  be 
built  up  and  taken  to  pieces  —  in  short,  with  the  material 
realities  of  life.     And  a  school  system  ought  to  be  so 


Variety  of  aptitude  167 


fashioned  as  to  give  full  recognition  to  this  fact.  We 
cannot  permit  ourselves,  of  course,  to  be  wholly  domi- 
nated by  the  special  preferences  and  tastes  of  individual 
scholars;  but  we  ought  to  allow  them  fuller  scope  than 
has  usually  been  accorded  to  them  in  educational  pro- 
grammes. Every  wise  teacher  knows  that  in  the  most 
perverse  and  uninteresting  scholar  there  are  germs  of 
goodness,  aptitudes  for  some  form  of  useful  activity,  some 
possibilities  even  of  excellence,  would  men  observingly 
distil  them  out:  and  that  it  is  the  duty  of  a  teacher  to 
discover  these,  encourage  their  development,  and  set 
them  to  work.  Wc  make  a  grave  mistake  if  we  suppose 
that  all  good  boys  should  be  good  in  one  way,  and  that 
all  scholars  should  be  interested  in  the  same  things,  and 
reach  an  equal  degree  of  proficiency  in  all  the  subjects  of 
our  curriculum.  This  is,  in  fact,  not  possible.  Nor, 
even  if  it  were  possible,  would  it  be  desirable.  So  one 
of  the  strongest  arguments  in  favour  of  the  recognition  of 
manual  and  artistic  exercises  in  our  schools  is,  that  by 
them  we  call  into  play  powers  and  faculties  not  evoked 
by  literary  studies,  and  so  give  a  better  chance  to  the 
varied  aptitudes  of  different  scholars.  School-boys  do 
not  always  like  the  same  things.  The  world  would 
be  a  much  less  interesting  world  than  it  is  if  they  did. 
A  school  course,  therefore,  should  be  wide  enough,  and 
diversified  enough,  to  give  to  the  largest  possible  number 
of  scholars  a  chance  of  finding  something  which  is  attrac- 
tive to  them,  and  which  they  will  find  pleasure  in  doing. 

I  think,  too,  that  a  legitimate  argument  in  favour  of  The 
more  hand  work  in  schools  may  be  found  in  the  fact  that ,  s.nity  °-> 

]  labour. 

by  it  we  may,  if  it  is  wisely  managed,  overcome  the 
frequent  and  increasing  distaste  of  many  young  people  for 
manual  labour.  In  progressive  countries  there  is  often 
a  vague  notion  that  such  labour  is  in  some  way  servile 


1 68  Hand  work  and  head  work 


and  undignified,  and  less  respectable  than  employments 
of  another  kind.  In  America,  especially,  this  feeling 
prevails  even  to  a  larger  extent  than  in  this  country. 
Perhaps  the  stimulating  climate,  the  general  restlessness 
and  eagerness  with  which  life  is  carried  on,  the  numerous 
opportunities  for  rapidly  acquiring  wealth,  have  had  a 
tendency  to  discourage  young  and  aspiring  men  and  to 
repel  them  from  handicrafts.  There  is  much  in  our 
common  conventional  phraseology,  which  implies  that 
physical  labour  has  been  imposed  on  man  as  a  curse, 
and  is  a  sign  of  his  degradation.1  It  is  hard,  under  these 
conditions,  to  awaken  in  any  active-minded  community 
a  true  respect  for  the  dignity  of  labour.  How  is  it  to  be 
done?  Mainly,  in  my  opinion,  by  associating  manual  work 
with  intellectual  work;  by  recognizing  in  our  systems  of 
education  that  all  art,  even  the  humblest,  rests  ultimately 
on  a  basis  of  science,  and  that  hand  work,  when  guided 
and  controlled  by  knowledge,  becomes  ennobled,  and 
takes  a  high  rank  among  the  liberal  employments  of  life, 
even  among  the  pursuits  of  a  gentleman.  Take  a  single 
example.  A  century  or  two  ago  blood-letting  was  part 
of  the  business  of  barber-surgeons.  They  were  trades- 
men, and  their  trade  was  not  one  of  the  highest  repute. 
But  in  time  it  came  to  be  understood  that  the  operation 
of  bleeding  was  one  which  ought  neither  to  be  recom- 

1  Jeremy  Taylor  had  learned  a  higher  lore.  "  If  it  were  not  for 
labour,  men  neither  could  eat  so  much,  nor  relish  so  pleasantly,  nor 
sleep  so  soundly,  nor  be  so  healthful  nor  so  useful,  so  strong  nor  so 
patient,  so  noble  nor  so  untempted.  God  hath  so  disposed  of  the 
circumstances  of  this  curse,  that  man's  affections  are  so  reconciled  to 
it,  that  they  desire  it  and  are  delighted  in  it.  And  so  the  anger  of 
God  is  ended  in  loving  kindness;  and  the  drop  of  water  is  lost  in 
the  full  chalice  of  the  wine;  and  the  curse  is  gone  out  into  a  multi- 
plied blessing."     (Sermon  on  the  Miracles  of  the  Divine  Mercy.) 


Limitations  to  the  value  of  manual  exercise      169 


mended  nor  practised  by  any  but  a  properly  qualified 
surgeon;  and  the  art,  such  as  it  was,  ceased  to  belong  to 
a  trade  and  became  part  of  a  profession,  and  in  this  way 
lost  all  ignoble  associations.  And,  in  like  manner,  it  is 
argued  with  some  truth  that,  when  you  make  manual 
dexterity  and  the  right  use  of  tools  a  part  of  general 
education,  and  duly  connect  it  with  a  study  of  form,  of 
beauty,  of  the  properties  of  the  materials  employed,  and 
of  the  laws  of  mechanical  force,  you  are  doing  something 
to  surround  handicraft  with  new  and  more  honourable 
associations,  to  disarm  vulgar  prejudice,  and  to  impress 
the  young  with  a  true  sense  of  the  dignity  of  skilled 
labour. 

Such  are  some  of  the  considerations  which  justify  the  Limita- 
fuller  recognition  of  finger-training  and  sense-training /'"',w  to  ,e 

000  °  claims  0/ 

generally  as  parts  of  a  liberal  education.  But  these  very  manual 
considerations  are,  at  the  same  time,  well  calculated  ^0trainlnS- 
warn  us  not  to  expect  too  much  from  such  training  if  it 
is  not  duly  co-ordinated  with  discipline  of  another  kind. 
The  true  teacher  will  not  seek  to  make  physical  train- 
ing a  rival  or  competitor  with  intellectual  exercise,  but 
will  desire  rather  to  make  the  whole  training  of  his  pupil 
more  harmonious.  He  will  hold  fast  to  the  belief  that, 
after  all,  mental  culture  is  the  first  business  of  a  school, 
and  ought  never  to  be  permitted  to  become  the  second. 
The  reaction  from  excessive  bookishness,  from  the  rather 
abstract  character  of  mere  scholastic  teaching,  is,  on  the 
whole,  well  justified.  But  the  opposite  of  wrong  is  not 
always  right ;  and  it  would  be  very  easy  to  make  a  grave 
mistake  by  emphasizing  too  strongly  the  value  of  manual 
exercise,  and  making  too  great  claims  for  it. 

What,  after  all,  is  the  main  function  of  the  teacher 
who  is  seeking  to  give  to  his  pupil  a  right  training,  and  a 
proper  outfit  for  the  struggles  and  duties  of  life?     It  is, 


1 70  Hand  work  and  head  work 

no  doubt,  to  give  a  knowledge  of  simple  arts,  and  of 
those  rudiments  of  knowledge  which,  by  the  common 
consent  of  all  parents  and  teachers,  have  been  held  to 
be  indispensable;  but  it  is  also  to  encourage  aspiration, 
to  evoke  power,  and  to  place  the  scholar  in  the  fittest 
possible  condition  for  making  the  best  of  his  own  faculties 
and  for  leading  an  honourable  and  useful  life. 

If  this  be  so,  we  have  to  ask,  what,  among  all  pos- 
sible exercises  and  studies,  are  the  most  formative  and 
disciplinal.  It  has  been  before  shown  that,  by  the  law  of 
what  are  called  "concomitant  variations,"  there  is  such  a 
relation  between  powers  and  organs,  that  the  cultivation 
of  one  leads,  by  a  reflex  action,  to  the  strengthening  of 
the  other;  you  cannot,  in  fact,  call  into  active  exercise 
any  one  power  without,  pro  tanto,  making  the  exercise  of 
other  powers  easier.  But  here  we  must  discriminate.  This 
correlation  and  this  mutual  interchange  of  forces  do  not 
act  uniformly.  Take  an  example.  You  want,  it  may  be, 
to  give  to  a  large  number  of  recruits,  none  of  whom  have 
had  any  previous  practice,  a  knowledge  of  military  evolu- 
tions, the  power  to  handle  a  rifle,  and  to  do  the  duties 
of  camp  life.  Say  that  half  of  them  are  clowns  fresh 
from  the  plough,  and  the  other  half  are  men  of  similar 
age  who  have  had  a  liberal  education.  Both  groups  are 
equally  unfamiliar  with  what  you  have  to  teach,  but  there 
is  no  doubt  as  to  which  group  will  learn  most  quickly. 
The  clowns  will  need  hard  work  to  bring  them  into 
discipline.  They  will  misunderstand  commands  and  be 
clumsy  in  executing  them.  The  greater  intelligence  of 
the  second  group  will  be  found  to  tell  immediately  on 
the  readiness  with  which  they  see  the  meaning  of  the 
manoeuvres,  and  on  the  promptitude  and  exactness  with 
which  they  perform  them.  Here  the  mental  training  has 
been  a  distinct  help  to  the  mere  physical  exercise.     But 


Limitations  to  the  value  of  manual  exercise      171 

it  cannot  be  said  in  like  manner  that  the  handicraftsman 
is  a  likelier  person  than  another  to  take  up  intellectual 
labour  with  zest,  and  to  be  specially  fitted  to  do  it  well. 
Intelligence  helps  labour  much  more  than  labour  promotes 
intelligence.  Nobody  who  knows  the  British  workman 
would  contend  that  the  practice  of  a  skilled  industry  — 
even  though  it  be  the  successful  practice  —  has  carried 
him  very  far  in  the  general  education  of  his  faculties  and 
the  development  of  his  full  power  as  a  man  and  a  citizen. 
Ever  since  the  time  when  Socrates  paid  his  memo- 
rable visit  to  the  workshops  of  Athens,  it  has  been  a 
familiar  fact  of  experience  that  your  mere  workman  may, 
though  skilled,  be,  so  far  as  his  understanding  is  con- 
cerned, a  very  poor  creature,  borne  right  and  left  by  the 
traditions  of  his  craft,  and  by  rules  of  thumb,  and  with 
very  confused  and  imperfect  ideas  about  matters  outside 
the  region  of  his  own  trade.  The  truth  is  that  the  con- 
stant repetition  of  the  same  mechanical  processes,  when 
practice  has  enabled  us  to  perform  them  without  further 
thought,  may  be  rather  deadening  than  helpful  to  the 
personal  intelligence  and  capability  of  the  worker.  The 
use  of  tools,  though  a  good  thing,  is  not  the  highest,  nor 
nearly  the  highest  thing  to  be  desired  in  the  outfit  of  a 
citizen  for  active  life.  The  difference  between  a  handy 
and  an  unhandy  man  is  no  doubt  important  all  through 
life;  but  the  difference  between  an  intelligent,  well-read' 
man  and  another  whose  mind  has  been  neglected,  is  fifty 
times  more  important,  whatever  part  he  may  be  called  on 
to  play  hereafter.  It  is  quite  possible  so  to  teach  the  use 
of  tools  that  the  teaching  shall  have  little  or  no  reflex 
action  on  other  departments  of  human  thought  and 
activity,  that  it  shall  appeal  little  to  the  reflective,  the 
imaginative,  or  the  reasoning  power,  and  that  it  may 
leave  its  possessor  a  very  dull  fellow  indeed. 


1 72  Hand  work  and  head  work 

Let  us  revert  for  the  moment  to  the  experience  of 
Socrates  as  it  is  recounted  in  the  Apologia.  "  I  betook 
myself,"  he  says,  "to  the  workshops  of  the  artizans,  for 
here,  methought,  I  shall  certainly  find  some  new  and 
beautiful  knowledge,  such  as  the  philosophers  do  not 
possess.  And  this  was  true,  for  the  workman  could 
produce  many  useful  and  ingenious  things."  But  he 
goes  on  to  express  his  disappointment  at  the  intellectual 
condition  of  the  artizans;  their  bounded  horizons,  their 
incapacity  for  reasoning,  their  disdain  for  other  know- 
ledge than  their  own,  and  the  lack  among  them  of  any 
general  mental  cultivation  or  of  any  strong  love  of 
truth  for  its  own  sake.  He  thought  that  mere  skill  in 
handicraft  and  mere  acquaintance  with  the  materials, 
and  with  the  physical  forces  employed  in  a  trade,  could 
carry  a  man  no  great  way  in  the  cultivation  of  himself 
and  might  leave  him  a  very  ill-educated  person;  that, 
in  fact,  the  man  was  more  important  even  than  the 
mechanic  or  the  trader,  and  that  in  order  to  be  qualified 
for  any  of  the  employments  of  life,  and  to  be  prepared 
for  all  emergencies,  mental  training  should  go  on  side 
by  side  with  the  discipline  needed  for  the  bread-winning 
arts. 
Needle-  We  have  at  hand  some  more  recent  experience  illus- 

work.  trating  the  same  truth.  There  has  been  for  many  years 
in  our  elementary  schools  one  kind  of  manual  and 
technical  work  specially  subsidized  by  the  State,  and 
indeed  enforced  as  an  indispensable  condition  of  receiv- 
ing any  aid  or  recognition  from  the  Education  Depart- 
ment at  all.  I  mean  needlework  in  girls'  schools. 
It  fulfils  for  girls  all  the  conditions  which  the  advocates 
of  technical  instruction  have  in  view  for  boys.  It  has 
unquestionable  utility.  It  affords  training  for  eye  and 
hand.     It  demands  attention,  accuracy,  and  dexterity; 


Needlezvork  173 


and  it  has  an  economic  value,  as  one  of  the  means  by 
which  the  home  may  be  improved,  and  money  earned. 
It  enlists  a  good  deal  of  sympathy  among  managers,  and 
the  Lady  Bountiful  or  the  vicar's  wife  in  a  country  village 
is  often  well  content  to  see  the  half  of  every  school  day 
spent,  not  indeed  in  learning  to  sew,  but  in  manufactur- 
ing garments  for  home  use  or  for  sale.  It  is  thought  by 
many  good  people  to  be  the  most  appropriate  of  all 
school  exercises  for  girls.  It  looks  so  domestic,  so 
feminine,  so  practical.  Perhaps  it  may  seem  ungracious 
to  enquire  too  curiously  into  the  effect  of  this  kind  of 
exercise  upon  the  general  capacity  of  the  scholars  and 
upon  the  formation  of  their  characters.  But  as  a  matter 
of  fact,  the  exercise  is  often  dull  and  mechanical;  it  keeps 
children  dawdling  for  hours  over  the  production  of 
results  which,  with  more  skilful  and  intelligent  teaching, 
might  be  produced  in  one-fourth  of  the  time.  The  place 
in  which  the  work  is  done  becomes  rather  a  factory 
than  a  school,  and  measures  its  usefulness  rather  by  the 
number  of  garments  it  can  finish  than  by  the  number  of 
bright,  handy,  and  intelligent  scholars  it  can  turn  out. 
In  fact,  it  is  found  that  proficiency  in  needlework  may 
co-exist  with  complete  intellectual  stagnation,  and  that 
the  general  cultivation  of  the  children,  their  interest  in 
reading  and  enquiring  has  been  too  often  sacrificed  to 
the  desire  for  visible  and  material  results.  Some  of  the 
sewing  is  designated  with  curious  irony,  fancy  work.  But 
there  is  little  or  no  room  in  it  for  fancy  or  inventiveness, 
or  even  for  the  exercise  of  any  originality  or  taste.  So 
while  fully  conceding  the  importance  of  needlework  as 
an  integral  part  of  the  primary  education  of  the  girls  in 
our  schools,  I  think  we  are  all  interested  in  econo- 
mizing the  time  devoted  to  this  work,  in  seeking  to 
employ  better  methods  of  obtaining  results,  and  above 


174 


Hand  work  and  head  work 


General 

conclu- 
sions. 


all  in  remembering  that  the  educational  value  of  mere 
handiwork  is  in  itself  very  limited,  and  that  it  ought  to  be 
supplemented  by  other  discipline  if  we  desire  to  make  the 
best  of  our  material  and  to  send  into  the  world  capable 
and  thoughtful  women,  ready  for  the  varied  duties  of 
domestic  and  industrial  life. 

You  will  anticipate  the  inference,  which  from  my  own 
point  of  view,  as  an  old  inspector  of  schools  and  training 
colleges,  I  am  inclined  to  deduce  from  these  considera- 
tions. I  entirely  admit  that  our  school  instruction  has 
long  been  too  bookish,  too  little  practical,  and  that 
the  friends  of  technical  instruction  are  fully  justified  in 
calling  attention  to  the  grave  deficiencies  in  our  system, 
especially  to  the  want  of  sounder  teaching  in  physical 
science,  and  of  better  training  in  the  application  of  those 
sciences  to  the  enrichment  of  the  community  and  to  the 
practical  business  of  life.  And  we  are  all  agreed,  too,  in 
the  belief  that  apart  from  the  industrial  and  economic 
results  of  better  manual  instruction,  there  may  be  in  such 
instruction  a  high  educational  purpose,  that  it  may  tell 
on  character,  awaken  dormant  faculty,  teach  the  better 
use  of  the  senses,  and  increase  the  power  of  the  human 
instrument  over  matter,  and  over  the  difficulties  of  life. 
This  is  the  aspect  of  the  problem  which  naturally  is  most 
interesting  in  the  case  of  scholars  who  are  not  intending 
to  get  their  living  by  manual  industry.  Only  do  not  let 
us  exaggerate  the  educational  value  of  hand  work  or  sup- 
pose that  all  our  difficulties  are  to  be  solved  by  turning 
our  schools  into  workshops.  Without  co-ordinate  intel- 
lectual training  and  development,  manual  training  will 
only  accomplish  a  part,  and  not  the  highest  part,  of  the 
work  which  lies  before  the  teachers  of  the  future.  There 
are  necessary  limitations  to  its  usefulness  and  it  is 
expedient  for  us  to  recognize  them. 


General  conclusions  175 

As  to  those  scholars  who  are  likely  hereafter  to  enter 
the  industrial  ranks  as  the  less  skilled  or  inferior  workers, 
we  have  to  bear  in  mind  some  of  the  special  disadvantages 
which  are  consequent  upon  modern  industrial  conditions. 
Division  of  labour,  specialization  of  function  in  factories 
and  workshops,  improved  machinery,  are  unquestionable 
advantages.  They  are  economically  valuable;  they 
cheapen  production,  and  we  cannot  do  without  them. 
But  educationally  they  have  a  narrowing  and  hurtful 
effect.  A  boy  or  girl  set  to  mind  a  machine,  or  feed  it 
with  bobbins,  a  man  or  woman  required  to  concentrate 
the  whole  attention  on  some  minute  detail  of  manufac- 
ture or  some  one  article  of  commerce,  fails  altogether  to 
obtain  that  general  knowledge  of  the  whole  of  a  trade  or 
business  which  the  obsolete  system  of  apprenticeship 
demanded,  and  tended  to  encourage.  He  sees  parts,  he 
does  not  see  the  whole  or  the  relation  of  his  own  restricted 
share  of  duty  to  anything  larger  than  itself.  He  has 
therefore  little  or  no  motive  for  trying  to  improve 
methods,  or  for  concerning  himself  with  the  general 
result.  There  is  no  scope  for  much  intelligence  or  for 
any  inventiveness  in  connexion  with  his  labour.  As 
Sir  Philip  Magnus  has  well  said,  "Production  on  a  large 
scale  has  increased  the  demand  for  unskilled  labour, 
and  has  had  the  effect  of  keeping  the  workman  to  one 
routine  of  mechanical  industry,  until  some  machine  is 
devised  to  take  his  place."1  Thus  the  very  perfection 
to  which  machinery  has  been  brought  has  reduced  the 
human  machine  to  a  lower  position,  and  has  tended  to 
make  the  work  of  the  rank  and  file  of  artizans  less 
interesting  to  themselves,  less  helpful  in  developing  the 
best  attributes  of  manhood,  and  less  relatively  important 
as  an  industrial  factor.     Since  this  result  is  inevitable,  it 

1  Encyclopedia  Britannica.     Article,  "Technical  Education/' 


I  j6  Hand  work  and  head  work 

behoves  us  to  hold  fast  by  all  the  means  and  opportunities 
of  intellectual  culture,  which  are  compatible  with  the 
changed  conditions  of  modern  industrial  life. 

There  are  at  least  two  ways  in  which  employers  of 
labour  and  others  who  are  interested  in  the  career  of 
manual  workers  can  render  effective  service  in  the 
direction  here  indicated.  The  first  of  these  is  to  aim  at 
a  higher  standard  of  general  knowledge  and  intellectual 
discipline  in  the  schools  from  which  technical  institutions 
are  recruited,  and  to  insist  on  evidence  of  a  solid  ground- 
work of  elementary  acquirement  as  a  condition  precedent 
to  the  admission  of  any  candidate  into  the  apprentice 
school  or  the  technical  institute. 

And  a  second  duty  is  to  urge,  whenever  possible, 
upon  each  of  the  young  people  in  trade  and  evening 
classes,  that  he  should  take  up  one  subject  at  least  —  it 
may  be  history,  mathematics,  philosophy,  poetry,  litera- 
ture, or  a  foreign  language  —  which  has  no  direct  or 
visible  relation  to  his  trade  or  to  the  means  whereby  he 
hopes  to  get  a  living,  but  is  simply  chosen  because  he  likes 
it,  because  his  own  character  is  enriched  and  strength- 
ened by  it,  because  it  helps  to  give  him  a  wider  outlook 
upon  the  world  of  nature,  of  books,  and  of  men,  and 
because  he  may  thus  prepare  himself  better  for  the  duties 
of  a  citizen  and  a  parent,  as  well  as  for  an  honoured 
place  in  the  ranks  of  industry. 


LECTURE    VI 

ENDOWMENTS  AND   THEIR  INFLUENCE  ON 
EDUCATION  l 

Turgot  and  the  Encyclopedic  Charitable  foundations  in  France. 
Avoidable  and  unavoidable  evils.  Almshouses.  Religious 
charities:  Tests  and  disqualifications.  Colston's  Charity  in 
Bristol.  The  Girard  College  in  Philadelphia.  Charities 
with  restricted  objects.  Doles.  Illegal  bequests  and  useless 
charities.  Educational  charities.  The  early  Grammar  Schools. 
Charity  Schools.  Contrast  between  the  educational  endow- 
ments of  the  sixteenth  and  those  of  the  eighteenth  century. 
Causes  of  decadence.  Influence  on  the  teachers.  The  En- 
dowed Schools  Act  of  1869.  Origin  of  charitable  endowments. 
The  equitable  rights  of  founders.  The  State  interested  in 
maintaining  these  rights.  Endowments  may  encourage  variety 
and  new  experiments :  but  sometimes  prevent  improvement. 
Conditions  of  vitality  in  endowed  institutions: — That  the 
object  should  be  a  worthy  one :  that  the  mode  of  attaining  it 
should  not  be  too  rigidly  prescribed.  The  Johns  Hopkins 
University.  Sir  Josiah  Mason's  foundations.  Supervision  and 
needful  amendment  the  duty  of  the  State.  Constitution  of 
governing  bodies.  Publicity.  Summary  of  practical  conclu- 
sions.    England  and  America. 

In  a  memorable  article  entitled  "Fondations,"  con-  Turgot 
tributed  by  Turgot  to  the  French  Encyclopedic  in  ^  1ST ')'■',! /''/„. 
but  for  some  unexplained  reason  —  either  modesty,  or  th&pedie. 
fear  of  identifying  himself  in  too  pronounced  a  manner 

1  This  lecture  was  delivered  in  the  Pennsylvania  University  at 
the  Annual  Meeting  of  the  College  Association  of  Philadelphia. 
N  177 


178     Endowments  and  tJicir  influence  on  Education 

with  the  enemies  of  vested  interests  —  not  acknowledged 
by  him  until  many  years  after,  there  is  a  forcible  and 
thoughtful  argument  respecting  endowments  and  their 
practical  effect.  He  contends  that  the  motive  which 
leads  a  founder  to  perpetuate  his  own  name  and  his  own 
notions  is  often  to  be  traced  to  mere  vanity.  The  testa- 
tor, he  says,  is  apt  to  be  ignorant  of  the  nature  of  the 
problem  he  desires  to  solve  and  of  the  best  way  of  solving 
it.  He  is  seldom  gifted  with  a  wise  foresight  of  the 
future  and  of  its  wants.  He  puts  into  his  deed  of  gift 
theories,  projects  and  restrictions  which  are  found  by  his 
successors  to  be  utterly  unworkable.  He  seeks  to  propa- 
gate opinions  which  posterity  disbelieves  and  does  not 
want.  He  takes  elaborate  precautions  against  dangers 
which  never  arise.  He  omits  to  guard  against  others 
which  a  little  experience  shows  to  be  serious  and  inevit- 
able. He  assumes  that  his  own  convictions  and  his  own 
enthusiasm  will  be  transmitted  to  subsequent  generations 
of  trustees  and  governors,  when  in  fact  he  is  only  placing 
in  their  way  a  sore  temptation,  at  best  to  negligence  and 
insincerity,  at  worst  to  positive  malversation  and  corrup- 
tion. In  fine,  Turgot  shows  by  an  appeal  to  history  that 
endowments  often  foster  and  keep  alive  many  of  the  very 
evils  they  profess  to  remedy,  and  that  instead  of  enrich- 
ing and  improving  posterity,  they  not  seldom  have  the 
direct  effect  of  demoralizing  it. 
Charitable  The  fondations  a  perpetuite  which  Turgot  had  in  view 
tionsi'  w^ien  he  wrote  this  remarkable  essay  were  hospitals, 
France,  convents,  religious  houses,  masses,  academies,  professor- 
ships, prizes,  the  encouragement  of  games  and  sports,  and 
other  forms  of  public  benefaction.  He  did  not  object  on 
principle  to  large  and  generous  gifts  for  such  purposes, 
but  it  was  indispensable,  he  contended,  that  such  gifts 
should  be  made  and  expended  in  the  donor's  lifetime, 


Avoidable  and  unavoidable  evils  17c) 

and  adapted  to  present  needs  rather  than  to  conjectural 

and  possibly  mistaken  forecasts  of  future  events.     His 

whole  argument  is  directed  against  the  perpetuation  of 

rules  and  ordinances,   not  against  their  enactment  by 

benefactors  who  could  watch  their  operation  and  see  that 

they  were   obeyed.     Had    he  lived  a  century  later  he 

might  have  found  the  most  striking  confirmation  of  his 

views  in  the  history  of  endowments  in  England.     A  few 

of  these  he  would  have  seen  were  of  undoubted  public 

utility,  but  a  great  many  existed  for  objects  which  were 

manifestly  mischievous;  others  were  kept  up  rather  in 

the  interests  of  those  who  administered  them  than  of 

those  for  whom  the  original  charity  was  intended;  others 

were  designed  as  permanent  remedies  for  evils  which  in 

the  course  of  time  had  wholly  disappeared;  while  others, 

though  contemplating  lawful  and  even   laudable  ends, 

sought   to   attain   them   by   means   so   antiquated   and 

cumbrous  that  they  were  utterly  useless.    In  short,  every 

successive  generation  has  enriched  the  history  of  charities 

with  new  examples  and  new  warnings.    These  things  are 

written  for  our  instruction.     They  ought  to  enable  men 

better  than  in  the  age  of  Turgot  to  discriminate  between 

the  wise  and  the  foolish,  the  useless  and  the  mischievous 

forms  of  charitable  endowment. 

For  example,  there  is  no  more  important  distinction  Avoidable 

to  be  kept   in  view  by  the  truly  charitable   than  that and. '/"" 
1  J  J  avoidable 

between  avoidable  evils  and  those  which  are  inevitable,  evils. 
Poverty  and  all  its  attendant  ills  belong  to  the  former 
class.  They  cannot  always  be  remedied.  But  within 
certain  limits  they  are  always  preventable.  With  more 
skill,  more  industry  and  more  prudence  they  might  in 
most  cases  have  been  avoided.  Yet  poverty,  as  we 
know,  is  one  of  the  commonest  and  most  conspicuous 
of  human  misfortunes,  and  it  is  the  one  to  the  cure  of 


180     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

which  charity  of tenest  addresses  itself.  A  benevolent  man 
is  distressed  as  he  sees  the  evidences  of  it  all  around 
him,  and  he  longs  to  alleviate  it.  He  is  unwilling  to  see 
that  his  gifts  will  probably  produce  more  poverty  than 
they  will  heal.  For  they  may  help  to  diminish,  in  the 
class  from  which  the  recipients  are  drawn,  the  spirit  of 
self-control  and  independence,  and  to  give  a  new  motive 
for  idleness  to  the  unthrifty  and  the  vicious.  It  may  be 
that  in  early  life  he  has  experienced  the  inconveniences 
of  poverty,  and  in  later  life  the  relief  and  blessing  of 
competence.  He  desires  that  others  who  have  reached 
the  later  stage  of  their  journey  should  enjoy,  as  he  has 
done,  the  tranquillity  and  freedom  from  care  which 
beseem  old  age.  It  may  seem  ungracious  to  remind  him 
that  he  himself  has  earned  his  repose  by  strenuous  exer- 
tion and  self-denial,  and  that  it  is  this  one  fact  which 
entitles  him  to  his  rest,  and  gives  dignity  and  appro- 
priateness to  it.  Yet  it  is  needful  that  he  should  con- 
sider this,  for  unless  he  takes  many  and  wise  precautions, 
his  gift  may  be  the  means  of  preventing  other  men  from 
following  his  own  excellent  example;  and  may,  not 
improbably,  be  appropriated  by  idle  and  shiftless  loafers 
who  have  never  earned  the  right  to  honourable  retire- 
ment, and  in  whose  case  old  age  is  without  dignity  and 
repose  without  charm. 
Alms-  There  is,  for  example,  no  form  of  posthumous  charity 

which  appeals  more  impressively  at  once  to  the  imagina- 
tion and  to  the  benevolent  instinct  than  an  Almshouse  or 
Home  for  the  aged.  Pope  says  admiringly  of  Kyrle,  the 
philanthropist  of  his  day,  well  known  as  the  Man  of  Ross : 

"  Behold  the  market  place  with  poor  o'erspread, 
The  Man  of  Ross  divides  the  weekly  bread; 
He  feeds  yon  almshouse  neat,  devoid  of  state, 
Where  age  and  want  sit  smiling  at  the  gate." 


houses. 


AlmsJiouses  181 


This  pretty  picture  is  one  which  to  the  superficial 
observer  is  not  without  attraction,  although  it  cannot  fail 
to  bring  into  some  minds  the  suspicion  that  the  town  of 
Ross,  after  all,  was  likely  to  become  the  refuge  of  mendi- 
cants from  all  the  country  side.  However,  one  sees  in 
many  a  town  in  England  a  quaint  and  picturesque  build- 
ing, with  its  quadrangular  court-yard,  its  many  gables  and 
its  chapel,  all  dedicated  to  the  repose  and  sustenance  of 
old  people,  the  decayed  members  of  a  trade,  a  guild  or  a 
municipality.  But  one  enters  the  precincts  and  finds 
too  often  a  querulous  and  unhappy  community,  chafing 
under  religious  and  social  restraints  which  are  foreign  to 
all  their  previous  habits,  and  distracted  by  small  jealousies 
and  quarrels.  The  truth  is  that  a  community  of  old 
people  who  have  nothing  in  common  but  their  age  and 
their  poverty  is  a  wholly  artificial  product  of  so-called 
benevolence.  And  it  is  not  a  satisfactory  product,  be- 
cause it  is  not  founded  on  a  true  estimate  of  the  needs  of 
old  age.  Nature  would  rather  teach  us  that  the  proper 
home  for  old  people  is  among  the  young  and  the  happy, 
from  whom,  on  the  one  hand,  they  may  receive  pleasure 
and  cheerfulness,  and  to  whom  they  may  in  turn  impart 
what  is  best  in  their  own  experience.  This  view  receives 
striking  confirmation  from  the  history  of  Greenwich 
Hospital,  a  stately  institution  of  which  Englishmen  have 
been  for  two  centuries  not  a  little  proud.  It  occupies  a 
lordly  site  on  the  Thames.  Macaulay  designated  it  "the 
noblest  of  European  hospitals,  a  memorial  of  the  virtues 
of  the  good  Queen  Mary,  of  the  love  and  sorrow  of 
William,  and  of  the  great  victory  of  La  Hogue."  Until 
recently  this  great  palatial  institution  sheltered  1,600  old 
seamen,  who  were  maintained  at  a  total  annual  cost  of 
about  ;£i 25,000,  or  more  than  ^75  per  man.     About 


1 82     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

half  of  this  sum,  however,  was  found  on  inquiry  to  be 
consumed  in  expenses  of  management.  The  seamen  of 
the  better  class  were  unwilling  to  enter  the  hospital 
owing  to  the  domestic  restraints  which  the  discipline 
of  the  institution  imposed,  and  because  they  were 
unwilling  to  sacrifice  the  friendships  and  associations 
of  their  lives.  When  these  facts  were  brought  to 
light,  a  measure  was  passed  in  1865  enabling  the 
Admiralty  to  offer  to  the  sailors  as  an  alternative  to 
residence  in  the  hospital  a  moderate  pension,  with  liberty 
to  reside  with  their  own  relatives.  The  annuity  was  fixed 
at  ^45.  The  proposal  was  at  once  gladly  embraced  by 
two-thirds  of  the  inmates,  and  it  is  greatly  preferred  by 
all  the  new  pensioners.  Since  the  change  was  made 
there  has  been  considerable  improvement  in  the  health 
of  the  men,  and  the  annual  death-rate  has  been  much 
reduced.  The  sum  saved  by  abandoning  the  more 
picturesque  for  the  more  prosaic  and  practical  form  of 
benevolence  has  nearly  sufficed  to  double  the  number  of 
seamen  assisted  by  the  charity. 

There  are  in  England  many  endowments  impressed 
strongly  with  a  religious  character,  and  designed  for  the 
double  purpose  of  relieving  distress  and  of  promoting 
the  interests  of  the  religious  body  to  which  the  founder 
happened  to  belong.  One  need  not  go  far  to  seek  the 
reasons  for  the  existence  of  such  foundations.  A  man 
who  is  earnestly  attached  to  his  own  communion  feels 
himself  in  special  sympathy  with  the  needs  of  his  fellow- 
worshippers  and  prefers  them  to  any  other  recipients  of 
such  bounty  as  he  may  have  to  bestow.  What  more 
natural  than  that  he  should  bequeath  gifts  of  clothes  or 
doles  of  bread  to  be  distributed  among  those  who  attend 
the  services  of  his  own  church!     What  more  reasonable 


charities. 


Religious  charities  183 

than  for  him  to  suppose  that  in  this  way  he  is  not  only 
helping  the  poor,  but  that  he  is  also  encouraging  them 
to  feel  an  interest  in  the  religious  worship  which  he  most 
approves !  But  soon  a  result  occurs  which  he  probably 
has  not  foreseen.  Claimants  for  his  bounty  come  to  the 
church  and  profess  conformity  to  its  creed,  for  the  sake 
of  obtaining  his  gifts.  I  know  a  London  clergyman  who 
found  on  entering  upon  his  duties  a  number  of  poor 
people  regularly  coming  on  Sunday  to  receive  the  Sacra- 
ment. This  seemed  to  him  a  gratifying  incident  in  a 
parish  in  which  there  was  a  good  deal  of  religious  apathy 
and  other  discouragements.  He  expressed  to  the  clerk 
his  pleasure  at  seeing  so  many  poor  communicants. 
"Oh,  sir,"  was  the  reply,  "of  course  they  come  for 
the  doles.  It  has  long  been  our  custom  to  distribute 
the  parochial  charities  only  to  those  who  partake  of  the 
Lord's  Supper."  The  new  vicar  was  shocked,  and  desired 
it  to  be  made  known  that  for  the  future  attendance  at 
the  Sacrament  would  not  be  regarded  as  constituting  any 
claim  on  the  charities,  and  that  absence  from  it  would 
be  no  disqualification,  but  that  all  future  claims  on  the 
fund  would  be  inquired  into  on  their  own  merits,  and 
without  any  reference  to  church  attendance.  From  that 
day  not  one  of  these  applicants  has  ever  come  to  church 
to  receive  the  Sacrament.  Cases  like  this  may  well 
remind  us  how  fatal  to  true  religion,  as  well  as  to  true 
charity,  is  any  attempt  to  make  the  distribution  of  alms 
serve  even  indirectly  as  a  religious  propaganda.  All 
bounties  and  premiums  on  the  profession  of  belief  have 
an  inevitable  tendency  to  profane  and  vulgarize  sacred 
ordinances,  and  to  encourage  insincere  religious  pro- 
fession, if  not  actual  hypocrisy  and  falsehood. 

In  the  history  of  civil  institutions  in  England,  Q\.^e/lSi0US 

J  .         .  tests  and 

perience  has  revealed  to  us  the  mischief  and  even  the  religious 


184     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

disquali-    profanity  of  religious  tests.     It  was  during  a  century  and 
jica  ions.    a  ^aj^  a  natjona]  scandai  that  the  Test  and  Corporation 

Acts,  and  all  the  formidable  penalties  of  the  Clarendon 
Code,  made  conformity  to  the  Established  Church, 
signing  the  Thirty-Nine  Articles,  or  participation  in  eu- 
charistic  services  indispensable  to  the  holding  of  offices. 
One  by  one  all  such  Acts  have,  during  the  present  cen- 
tury, been  repealed,  and  the  ancient  universities  have 
been  freed  from  the  necessity  of  imposing  subscription 
to  the  Articles  or  other  religious  tests  on  candidates  for 
degrees.  But  although  Parliament  has  not  hesitated  to 
rectify  the  mistakes  of  its  predecessors,  it  has  always 
shown  reluctance  to  interfere  with  the  legislation  of 
private  founders,  and  accordingly  we  have  seen  illiberal 
and  mischievous  regulations  surviving  in  charitable  insti- 
tutions long  after  the  good  sense  and  practical  experi- 
ence of  statesmen  have  succeeded  in  removing  similar 
regulations  from  the  Statute  Book.  Let  me  give  to  you 
two  illustrations  of  this  assertion,  the  one  drawn  from  an 
educational  foundation  in  my  own  country,  and  the  other 
from  one  in  this  city  of  Philadelphia. 
Colston's  Early  in  the  eighteenth  century  there  lived  in  Bristol 

charity  in  one  Edward  Colston,  who,  at  his  death,  made  large 
bequests  to  his  native  city.  To  this  day  his  memory  is 
revered  by  the  citizens,  and  pious  orgies  in  his  honour 
are  annually  celebrated  on  his  birthday.  Among  other 
good  works  he  founded  a  hospital-school.  He  was  a 
very  zealous  member  of  the  Established  Church,  and  he 
was  determined  that  his  new  foundation  should  subserve 
the  interests  of  that  body.  In  his  deed  he  not  only  gave 
orders  respecting  the  learning  of  the  Catechism  and  the 
diligentattendanceof  the  childrenatchurchtwiceon  every 
Sunday  and  saints'  days,  but  further  ordained  that  the 
apprentice  fee  to  be  given  to  a  boy  on  leaving  school  should 


Colston  and  Girard  185 

be  paid  only  if  the  master  to  whom  he  was  bound  was 
"  in  all  respects  conformable  to  the  Established  Church." 

He  further  ordered  that  "in  case  the  parents  of  any 
boy  in  the  hospital  shall  prevail  on  him  to  go  or  be 
present  at  any  conventicle  or  meeting  on  pretence  of 
religious  worship,  or  by  word  or  action  prevail  with  or 
deter  any  child  from  attending  the  public  worship  accord- 
ing to  the  religion  established  in  the  Church  of  England, 
then  it  shall  be  lawful  for  the  trustees  to  expel  such  child 
and  to  take  away  his  clothing."  He  proceeds  to  add 
several  minatory  clauses  addressed  to  any  possible  future 
trustees  who  should  consent  to  the  education  of  the  boys 
in  any  but  the  fashion  thus  prescribed,  "  it  being  entirely 
contrary  to  my  inclinations  that  any  of  the  boys  should 
be  educated  in  fanaticism,  or  in  principles  any  way 
repugnant  to  those  of  the  present  Established  Church." 
These  ordinances  were  carried  out  in  all  their  rigour  from 
1708  until  the  enactment  of  the  Endowed  Schools  Act 
of  1869,  under  which  a  scheme  was  framed  revoking 
many  of  the  trusts,  and  releasing  the  trustees  from  any 
obligation  to  give  effect  to  those  of  the  founders'  wishes 
which  were  plainly  out  of  harmony  with  the  needs  and 
the  circumstances,  and,  indeed,  with  the  public  con- 
science of  the  nineteenth  century. 

In  this  city  of  Philadelphia  you  have  a  very  noble  and  The 
richly  endowed  hospital,  called  Girard  College,  which,  c"ifare  !n 
in  its  own  way,  illustrates  the  point  now  under  discussion.  Philadel- 
When  I  went  to  visit  it  I  was  asked  first  if  I  was  a-^     " 
minister  of  religion,  and  a  copy  of  an  extract  from  the 
will  of  Stephen  Girard,   the  founder,  was  put  into  my 
hands:  "I  enjoin  and  require  that  no  ecclesiastic,  mis- 
sionary or  minister  of   any  sect  whatsoever  shall  ever 
hold  or  exercise  any  station  or  duty  whatever  in  the  said 
College,  nor  shall  any  such  person  ever  be  admitted  as 


1 86     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

a  visitor  within  the  premises  appropriated  to  the  said 
College."  Now  it  is  quite  certain  that  if  such  an  ordi- 
nance as  this  had  at  any  time  been  enacted  by  the  State 
legislature,  or  laid  down  by  a  Court,  it  would  have  been 
repealed  long  ago.  Common  sense,  right  feeling  and 
experience  would  have  shown  its  absurdity.  But  because 
Stephen  Girard  is  beyond  reach,  and  there  are  no  means 
of  consulting  him  and  convincing  him  of  its  absurdity, 
and  because  the  superstition  which  attaches  inordinate 
sacredness  to  founders'  intentions  is  prevalent  in  the  New 
World  as  well  as  in  the  Old,  whatever  evil  he  may  have 
done  by  this  ordinance  of  his  is  practically  irremediable. 
And  I  suppose  this  splendid  foundation  will  for  years  to 
come  be  deprived  of  the  services  and  the  sympathy  of 
many  persons  whose  aid  would  be  much  valued  by  the 
trustees  if  they  were  at  liberty  to  invoke  it;  and  that 
regulations  will  continue  to  be  in  force  which  are  a  stand- 
ing and  public  insult  to  all  the  ministers  of  religion, 
and  which  will  cause  thousands  of  children  at  the  most 
impressionable  period  of  their  lives  to  be  alienated  not 
only  from  communion  with  Christian  Churches,  but 
from  religion  itself. 
Charities  It  frequently  happens  that  a  fund  is  left  with  strict 

w1t/t  injunctions  that  it  shall  be  applied  for  ever  to  a  very 

restricted         '  1  L  J 

objects.  limited  purpose;  and  in  due  time  the  fund  is  augmented 
till  its  amount  is  out  of  all  proportion  to  the  need  it  is 
intended  to  supply.  I  know  a  village  in  England  to 
which  a  former  inhabitant  bequeathed  the  rent  of  a  small 
estate  with  directions  that  it  should  be  annually  spent  in 
gifts  to  the  poor  widows  of  the  parish.  Time  went  on,  a 
valuable  vein  of  brick  earth  was  found  on  the  estate,  the 
annual  income  was  increased  nearly  ten-fold;  but  the 
population  of  the  village  remained  stationary.  That  is 
to  say,  it  would  have  remained  so  but  for  an  extensive 


Doles  187 

immigration  of  widows  from  the  neighbouring  towns  and 
villages,  who  have  contrived  to  dislocate  all  the  social 
arrangements  of  the  little  parish,  and  to  introduce  into  it 
a  disturbing  and  not  always  reputable  element.  The 
trustees  were  embarrassed,  and  after  a  long  time  sought 
relief  from  the  Legislature,  with  power  to  enlarge  and 
vary  the  trusts.  But  this  was  a  strong  and  very  unpopular 
measure;  the  claimants  technically  entitled  under  the 
founder's  will,  though  as  a  class  they  were  probably 
lowered  and  demoralized  by  his  gifts,  loudly  proclaimed 
their  right  to  receive  them;  and  long  before  the  trusts 
were  altered  grave  evils  had  arisen,  and  the  whole 
district  had  learned  to  look  on  the  endowment  as  a 
curse  rather  than  a  blessing. 

Dole  funds  and  small  charities  for  distribution  among  Doles. 
the  poor  have  been  very  favourite  forms  of  benevolence, 
and  they  are  to  be  found  in  hundreds  of  English  parishes. 
Everywhere  they  are  the  despair  of  the  clergy  and  of  all 
who  have  the  real  interests  of  the  labouring  class  at 
heart.  These  gifts,  it  has  been  repeatedly  shown,  pau- 
perize the  people  and  destroy  their  sense  of  shame. 
One  witness  adds:  "The  poor  people  spend  more  time 
looking  after  such  gifts  than  would  suffice  to  gain  the 
same  sums  by  industry."  In  a  remarkable  speech,  in  the 
House  of  Commons,  in  1863,  Mr  Gladstone  said:  "The 
dead  hand  of  the  founder  of  an  annual  dole  does  not 
distinguish  between  the  years  of  prosperity  among  the 
labouring  classes  and  years  of  distress :  in  prosperous 
years  it  leads  those  who  are  not  in  need  to  represent 
themselves  to  be  so;  it  holds  out  annual  hopes  to  im- 
providence, it  more  frequently  excites  jealousy  and  ill- 
feeling  than  good-will,  both  on  the  part  of  the  recipients 
towards  the  distributors  of  the  charity,  and  among  the 
recipients  themselves.     For   one    person  who  receives 


1 88     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

substantial   benefit   from  these  doles,  many  feel  their 
demoralizing  effect." 

It  would  be  an  endless  task  to  enumerate  the  various 
forms  of  charitable  endowment  which  subsequent  experi- 
ence has  shown  to  be  either  useless  or  positively  harmful. 
One  man  provides  a  house  for  lepers  and  an  estate  the 
income  of  which  is  to  be  devoted  for  ever  to  the  mainte- 
nance of  that  house.  Another  bequeaths  a  large  sum 
for  the  redemption  of  prisoners  taken  captive  by  pirates 
on  the  Barbary  coast.  Now  it  is  plain  that  when  it 
comes  to  pass  that  there  are  no  lepers  to  be  found  in  the 
country,  and  that  Barbary  pirates  have  ceased  to  infest 
the  Mediterranean,  there  arises  the  need  for  some  new 
disposition  of  the  testator's  bounty.  But  long  after  that 
day  arrives  it  is  found  that  there  are  persons  concerned 
more  or  less  with  the  administration  of  the  fund,  and 
interested  in  its  continuance,  who  plead  that  perchance 
the  evil  provided  against  by  the  founder  may  re-appear, 
and  that  meanwhile  it  is  a  sin  and  sacrilege  to  divert 
the  fund  to  objects  which  he  did  not  specify. 
Illegaland  There  are  some  forms  of  posthumous  gifts  which, 
Tharities  tenderly  as  the  English  law  regards  the  will  of  testators, 
are  nevertheless  held  to  be  illegal  and  inconsistent  with 
public  policy.  A  sum  of  money  bequeathed  to  pay  the 
fines  of  offenders  under  the  game  laws  was  held  to  be  an 
invalid  charity,  because  it  directly  encouraged  a  breach 
of  the  law.  Another  bequest  providing  funds  for  the 
political  restoration  of  the  Jews  to  Jerusalem,  to  their 
own  land,  was  ruled  by  the  judges  to  be  illegal,  because, 
if  carried  into  effect,  it  was  calculated  to  create  a  revolu- 
tion in  a  friendly  country  and  to  embroil  the  English  with 
the  Ottoman  Empire.  At  the  Reformation,  and  after- 
wards, many  statutes  were  enacted  declaring  void  all  gifts 
for  "  superstitious  uses,"  a  term  which  has  been  variously 


Illegal  and  useless  charities  1 89 

interpreted  within  the  last  three  centuries,  according  to 
the  degrees  of  toleration  prevalent  at  the  time,  but  which 
still  extends  in  England  to  masses,  and  to  prayers  for 
the  dead.  On  the  other  hand,  so  great  a  sacredness  has 
attached  in  England  to  the  intentions  of  founders,  that 
many  bequests  have  been  accepted  and  scrupulously 
observed,  which  nevertheless  it  would  obviously  be  the 
interest  of  the  community  to  reject.  A  foundling  hospital 
offers  a  direct  encouragement  to  illegitimate  births.  A 
permanent  dole  fund  tempts  poor  people  to  falsehood  or 
to  exaggeration,  and  its  very  existence  diminishes  one 
of  the  motives  of  thrift  and  self-restraint.  An  apprentice 
fund  which  was  once  well  adapted  to  the  industrial  needs 
of  the  community  continues  to  exist  long  after  the  system 
of  apprentice  premiums  has  been  abolished  in  ordinary 
trade.  Such  funds  are  found  in  practice  to  furnish  in 
disguise  a  charitable  dole  to  certain  parents  and  to  be 
of  no  service  whatever  in  qualifying  children  to  become 
skilled  artizans.  At  a  small  village  in  Yorkshire  I  found 
an  endowment  of  nearly  ^1000  a  year  carefully  ad- 
ministered in  precise  accordance  with  the  will  of  the 
founder,  who  two  hundred  years  ago  had  enjoined  his 
executors  to  see  that  the  letter  R,  the  initial  of  his  own 
name,  should  be  conspicuously  embroidered  on  the  dress 
of  all  the  recipients  of  his  bounty.  His  injunctions  were 
still  obeyed.  Three  old  men,  three  old  women  and 
twelve  boys  walked  about  the  village  thus  decorated,  in 
pious  remembrance  of  their  venerated  founder,  and  on 
his  birthday  listened  annually  to  a  sermon  extolling  his 
merits.  In  all  these,  and  hundreds  of  similar  cases, 
endowments  characterized  from  the  first  by  vanity,  by 
want  of  true  foresight,  and  by  their  tendency  to  aggravate 
the  very  evils  they  profess  to  remedy,  have  been  per- 
mitted to  survive  whatever  of  usefulness  they  originally 


charities. 


190     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

possessed.  Eripitur  persona,  ma  net  res.  The  property 
remains,  the  short-sighted  regulations  of  a  past  century 
continue  in  force;  but  the  intelligent  direction,  the  spirit 
of  genuine  philanthropy  which  would  probably  have 
modified  these  regulations,  has  disappeared,  and  the 
men  of  this  generation  are  half  reluctant,  half  unable  to 
find  an  effective  substitute  for  it. 
Educa-  But  it  is  in  regard   to   the  history  of  education  in 

England  that  some  of  the  most  remarkable  and  instruc- 
tive lessons  have  been  furnished  to  us  as  to  the  working 
of  the  principle  of  endowment.  Here,  at  least,  we  seem 
to  be  in  a  region  in  which  there  is  less  danger  of  abuse. 
Poverty,  destitution,  crime,  are,  it  may  be  admitted,  evils 
that  may  be  fostered  and  increased  by  gifts  which  are 
clumsily  designed  to  prevent  them.  But  ignorance  is  an 
evil  which  admits  of  a  remedy,  and  which  he  who  suffers 
from  it  cannot  always  remedy  without  help.  Nobody 
voluntarily  becomes  ignorant  in  order  that  he  may  share 
a  gift  intended  to  provide  him  with  knowledge.  In 
establishing  universities  or  schools  for  the  young,  and 
in  providing  instruction  of  a  quality  which  the  parent 
would  be  unable  to  procure  for  his  children,  the  pious 
founder  would  seem  at  least  to  be  on  safer  ground,  and 
to  be  in  a  position  to  render  a  real  service  to  his  country. 
And  as  a  fact,  some  of  the  noblest  foundations  in  England 
are  its  universities  and  public  schools.  They  have,  on 
the  whole,  originated  in  higher  motives,  and  their 
founders  have  been  animated  by  a  more  enlightened 
perception  of  the  public  interest  than  charities  of  almost 
any  other  kind.  But  a  brief  glance  at  their  history 
will  show  that  even  here  the  incurable  vices  that  are 
wont  to  breed  in  all  foundations  have  thriven  hardly 
less  than  elsewhere  —  stagnation,  corruption,  negligence, 
and   a   fatal    incapacity    to    adapt    themselves   to    the 


The  early  Grammar  Schools  191 

changed  circumstances  and  needs  of  successive  genera- 
tions. 

The   ancient   "grammar   schools"   of   England   owe  The  early 

their  origin  mainly  to  the  Tudor  period.     Before  the  Grammar 

0  J  L  Schools. 

accession  of  Henry  VIII  there  were  but  thirty-five  such 

institutions  in  England,  including  Eton,  Carlisle  and 
Winchester,  and  a  few  others,  which  had  been  founded 
as  chantries,  or  were  otherwise  connected  with  ecclesias- 
tical establishments.  But  it  was  the  dissolution  of  the 
monasteries  which  at  once  gave  the  impetus  to  the 
establishment  of  such  schools,  and  furnished  the  means 
of  sustaining  them.  And  it  is  a  fortunate  circumstance 
for  England  that  the  same  event  which  set  free  large 
resources  for  these  special  uses  happened  to  coincide 
with  the  revival  of  learning,  with  the  Protestant  Reforma- 
tion and  with  the  quickening  of  intellectual  energy  and 
of  the  spirit  of  inquiry  throughout  the  land.  During 
successive  generations,  down  to  the  period  of  the  Civil 
War,  nearly  eight  hundred  "grammar  school"  founda- 
tions were  created.  One  uniform  purpose  is  manifest  in 
the  testaments,  the  deeds  of  gift  and  the  early  statutes 
by  which  the  character  of  these  schools  was  intended  to 
be  shaped.  It  is  to  encourage  the  pursuit  of  a  liberal 
education  founded  on  the  ancient  languages  —  then  the 
only  studies  which  had  been  so  far  formulated  and 
systematized  as  to  possess  a  disci plinal  character.  It  is 
almost  invariably  stipulated  in  the  instrument  of  founda- 
tion that  the  master  is  to  be  a  learned  man;  that  he 
shall  be  apt  and  godly,  qualified  to  instruct  in  good 
letters  and  good  manners;  and  that  he  shall  receive  as 
his  pupils  children  of  all  ranks. 

But  it  is  notable  that  by  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  Charity 
century  a  great  change  seems  to  have  come  over  the  '  ' 
minds  of  testators  and  benevolent  people  in  regard  to 


192     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 


this  matter  of  education.  The  endowed  schools,  which 
owe  their  origin  to  this  period,  aim  no  longer  at  the 
general  diffusion  of  a  liberal  education,  or  at  the  en- 
couragement of  all  classes  in  the  common  pursuit  of 
knowledge  and  culture.  They  are  for  a  limited  number 
of  the  poor,  but  for  the  poor  alone.  They  are  designed 
rather  to  repress  than  to  stimulate  intellectual  ambition; 
and,  consciously  or  unconsciously,  they  were  adapted 
less  to  bring  rich  and  poor  together  than  to  set  up  new 
barriers  between  them.  There  has  been  no  period  of 
our  history  in  which  the  social  separation  of  classes  has 
been  more  marked  and  more  jealous  than  at  the  begin- 
ning of  the  eighteenth  century.  The  disappearance  of 
the  last  vestiges  of  feudalism,  under  the  legislation  of 
Charles  II  and  of  William,  synchronized  with  the  steady 
growth  among  the  upper  and  middle  classes  of  a  kind  of 
social  and  religious  conservatism,  which  was  none  the 
less  strong  because  the  legal  securities  for  its  mainte- 
nance were  passing  away.  The  Act  of  Uniformity  had 
been  designed  to  crush  out  Dissent.  The  Toleration  Act 
of  the  next  generation  was  in  fact  a  legal  admission  that 
this  design  had  failed,  and  that  Nonconformity  was  a 
force  which  must  now  be  recognized.  To  the  resolute 
Churchmen  of  the  beginning  of  the  eighteenth  century, 
to  such  men  as  Edward  Colston,  of  whom  I  have  already 
spoken,  and  Robert  Nelson,  the  author  of  the  "Fasts 
and  Festivals,"  this  was  a  sad  and  ominous  fact,  and 
they  and  their  friends  sought  to  neutralize  its  effect  by 
more  diligent  teaching  of  the  liturgy  and  formularies  of 
the  Church  of  England  in  schools  for  the  poor.  The 
prevalence  of  Dissent,  it  was  feared,  would  imperil  the 
social  order.  A  fear  lest  the  poor  should  be  encouraged 
by  it  to  forget  the  duties  of  their  station  and  to  encroach 
upon  the  privileges  of  the  rich  is  very  evident  in  much 


Later  educational  endowments  193 

of  the  literature  and  some  of  the  legislation  of  the  age. 
And  there  is  no  more  significant  token  of  the  changed 
feeling  with  which  the  rich  had  come  to  regard  the  poor 
than  the  simple  fact  that,  whereas  in  the  sixteenth 
century  Englishmen  founded  grammar  schools,  in  the 
eighteenth  they  founded  charity  schools. 

Schools  of  the  latter  class  rapidly  multiplied  during  Contrast 
the  last  century  and  the  beginning  of  the  present.    They  l)ct'v"'" 
are  founded  on  a  conception  of  education  partly  religious  tional  en- 
and  partly  feudal,  but  almost  wholly  ignoble  and  humili   dewments 
ating,  and  some  of  them  exist  to  our  own  day  in  striking  sixteenth 
contrast  to  the  grammar  school  foundations  of  earlier and  tnose 
generations.     The  charity  school   children  were  to  be  eighteenth 
sedulously  discouraged  from  learning  more  than  was  sup-  century. 
posed  to  be  necessary  for  the  discharge  of  the  humblest 
duties  of  life.     But  the  scholars  in  the  grammar  schools 
were  either  to  be  the  sons  of  gentlemen,  or  were  to  be 
treated  as  such.     They  were  to  be  brought  within  the 
reach  of    the    highest  cultivation   that  the   nation  can 
afford;    they  were  to  be   encouraged   to  proceed   from 
school  to  the  universities;    and  special  provision  was 
always  made  to  tempt  into  this  higher  region  of  learning 
and  gentleness  the  child  of  the  yeoman  and  the  peasant, 
in  order  that,  if  quickwitted  and  diligent,  he  too  might 
be  trained  up  to  serve  God  in  Church  and  State. 

Yet  upon  nearly  all  these  institutions  alike  the  curse 
of  barrenness  seems  to  have  fallen.  An  official  investi- . 
gation,  in  which  it  was  my  duty  to  take  an  active  share 
in  1865,  extended  over  the  whole  country  and  revealed 
the  fact  that  nearly  all  these  schools,  whether  designed  to 
furnish  a  liberal  education,  or  only  to  give  to  the  "  hewers 
of  wood  and  drawers  of  water"  the  humble  training 
supposed  to  be  needed  in  order  to  fit  them  for  the 
meanest  duties,  were  in  a  lamentable  state  of  decay  and 
o 


194     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

inefficiency.  The  body  of  testimony  obtained  by  the 
"Schools  Inquiry  Commission"  is  especially  conclusive 
in  regard  to  the  endowed  Grammar  Schools.  The  build- 
ings and  school  furniture  were,  in  a  majority  of  cases, 
most  unsatisfactory;  the  number  of  scholars  who  were 
obtaining  the  sort  of  education  in  Latin  and  Greek  con- 
templated by  the  founders  was  very  small,  and  was 
constantly  diminishing;  the  general  instruction  in  other 
subjects  was  found  to  be  very  worthless,  the  very  existence 
of  statutes  prescribing  the  ancient  learning  often  serving 
as  a  reason  for  the  absence  of  all  teaching  of  modern 
subjects;  and,  with  a  few  honourable  exceptions,  the 
endowed  schools  were  found,  in  1865 — 7,  to  be  character- 
ized by  inefficient  supervision  on  the  part  of  the  govern- 
ing bodies  and  by  languor  and  feebleness  on  the  part  of 
teachers  and  taught.  I  know  no  more  melancholy  chapter 
in  English  history  than  is  supplied  by  the  ponderous 
volumes  of  the  Schools  Inquiry  Commission.  It  is  a 
history  of  great  resources  wasted,  of  high  hopes  frus- 
trated, and  of  means  and  plans  wholly  unsuited  to  the 
ends  proposed  to  be  attained. 
Causes  of  When  the  causes  of  this  decadence  came  to  be 
decadence,  investigated,  it  was  found  that  much  of  it  was  owing  to 
the  faulty  constitution  of  the  trusts.  Some  were  close 
corporations  of  private  friends,  with  power  of  perpetual 
renewal  by  co-optation;  some  were  small  bodies  of 
vestrymen;  others  were  municipal  or  trading  companies, 
wholly  destitute  of  educational  experience.  In  some  the 
trustees  were  too  remote  from  the  place  to  have  any 
vital  interest  in  the  welfare  of  the  charity;  in  others  they 
were  so  closely  identified  with  the  town  or  village  that 
they  were  incapable  of  taking  a  general  view  of  the 
interests  of  the  whole  district  and  of  its  educational 
wants.     In  all,  they  were  isolated  from  each  other,  self- 


Influence  on  tlie  teachers  195 

controlled,  and  often  practically  self-constituted,  without 
motive  for  activity,  or  any  external  aid  or  guidance  as 
to  the  form  which  a  wise  activity  should  assume.  The 
masters  generally  held  freehold  offices  and  were  practi- 
cally not  removeable,  even  for  serious  inefficiency,  with- 
out costly  litigation.  Above  all,  the  governing  bodies 
were  in  every  case  hampered  by  traditions,  by  founders' 
wills  and  statutory  provisions,  which  they  could  not 
carry  out  if  they  would,  but  which  effectually  prevented 
them  from  making  any  organic  improvement. 

And  the  pressure  of  the  dead  hand  on  the  teachers  Influence 
was  not  less  heavy.  One  can  understand  and  respect  °^ac^ers 
the  position  of  a  schoolmaster  who  takes  his  stand 
resolutely  super  vias  antiquas,  who  refuses  to  be  beguiled 
by  modern  innovations  into  a  neglect  of  the  clearly 
expressed  will  of  the  school  founder,  and  who  steadfastly 
narrows  his  own  aims  in  the  direction  of  an  ideal  of 
scholarship,  which  he  has  learned  from  Ascham,  from 
Milton,  or  from  Busby.  And  one  may  view,  not  with- 
out respect,  though  perhaps  with  less  sympathy,  the 
teacher  who,  finding  the  ancient  grammar  school  theory 
hopelessly  untenable,  determines  to  disregard  it  alto- 
gether, and  to  lay  himself  out  to  meet  the  importunate 
and  not  always  intelligent  demands  of  a  restless  and 
mercantile  age.  But  the  saddest  part  of  the  experience 
of  the  Commissioners  appears  to  have  been  the  discovery 
that  four-fifths  of  the  endowed  schools  were  fulfilling 
neither  the  one  purpose  nor  the  other;  and  that  the 
whole  machinery,  while  in  some  cases  producing  positive 
mischief,  by  occupying  the  ground  and  preventing  the 
establishment  of  good  modern  schools,  was  even  in  the 
best  cases  yielding  results  sadly  inadequate  to  its  costli- 
ness, and  unsuited  to  the  educational  wants  of  the  com- 
munity for  whose  benefit  it  was  designed. 


1 96     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

The  These  evils  have  been  to  a  large  extent  remedied. 

Schools  The  revelations  of  the  Schools  Inquiry  Commissioners 
Act  of  led,  in  1869,  to  the  establishment  of  a  new  Executive 
iS6g.  Commission,  with  large  powers  to  alter  the  schemes  of 
instruction,  to  reconstruct  the  governing  bodies,  to  set 
free  funds  for  providing  scholarships  and  exhibitions, 
and  generally  to  bring  the  endowed  schools  into  harmony 
with  modern  needs.  But  it  required  a  very  drastic  and 
revolutionary  Act  of  Parliament  to  effect  this  —  an  Act 
which  shocked  many  prejudices,  and  was  passed  not 
without  difficulty;  which  came  into  rude  conflict  with 
many  venerable  and  touching  local  associations,  and 
which  could  not  in  fact  have  been  enacted  at  all  had  not 
the  evils  of  the  old  state  of  things  become  intolerable. 
The  Commission  which  reported  in  1894  furnished 
ample  evidence  of  the  beneficent  effect  of  this  Act  and 
recommended  the  continuance  and  even  the  enlargement 
of  the  powers  possessed  by  public  authority  to  remedy 
such  evils.  It  showed,  too,  that  the  public  was  being 
reconciled,  far  more  than  it  was  in  1869,  to  the  freer 
handling  by  the  State  in  regard  to  ancient  trusts.  But 
this  occasional  legislation  is  not  that  which  a  wise  states- 
man prefers,  or  contemplates  with  any  satisfaction.  It  is 
not  by  the  periodical  removal  of  a  mountain  of  accu- 
mulated abuses,  but  by  such  prudent  provisions  as  shall 
prevent  abuses  from  accumulating  that  the  true  interests 
of  the  body  politic  are  best  secured.  And  we  shall  be 
helped  to  understand  the  nature  of  those  provisions  if 
we  look  a  little  further  into  the  origin  and  the  practical 
working  of  endowments  generally. 
Origin  of  It  were  to  inquire  too  curiously,  to  peer  into  the 
artta   e  motjves    in    which  endowments  originate.     Mr  Lecky 

endow-  °  J 

ments.        in  his  History  of  European  Morals  has  shown  that  in 
very  early  Christian  ages  the  substitution  of  devotion  for 


Origin  of  charitable  endowments  197 

philanthropy  generated  a  belief  in  the  expiatory  or  meri- 
torious nature  of  eleemosynary  gifts.  "A  love  of  what 
may  be  called  selfish  charity  arose,"  he  says,  "which 
assumed  at  last  gigantic  proportions,  and  exerted  a  most 
pernicious  influence  upon  Christendom.  Men  gave 
money  to  the  poor  simply  and  exclusively  for  their  own 
spiritual  benefit,  and  the  welfare  of  the  sufferer  was  alto- 
gether foreign  to  their  thoughts."  And  it  must  be  owned 
that  Christian  teachers  in  all  ages  have  done  much  to 
encourage  the  belief  that  almsgiving  and  charitable 
foundations  were  a  profitable  form  of  investment.  "Spare 
not,"  says  Sir  Thomas  Browne,  "when  thou  canst  not 
easily  be  prodigal,  and  fear  not  to  be  undone  by  mercy; 
for  since  he  who  hath  pity  on  the  poor  lendeth  unto  the 
Almighty  rewarder,  who  observes  no  ides  but  every  day 
for  his  payments,  charity  becomes  pious  usury,  Christian 
liberality  the  most  thriving  industry,  and  what  we  adven- 
ture in  a  cock-boat  may  return  in  a  carrack  to  us.  He 
who  thus  casts  his  bread  upon  the  waters  shall  surely  find 
it  again."1  Considerations  of  this  cynical  kind  have  been 
urged  with  more  or  less  of  insistence  upon  rich  people 
in  all  ages,  and  have  been  found  so  potent,  especially  in 
the  near  approach  of  death,  that  society,  notwithstanding 
its  general  approval  of  charity  in  all  its  forms,  has  been 
compelled  in  its  own  defence  to  enact  from  time  to  time 
laws  of  mortmain,  forbidding  the  permanent  alienation 
of  lands  to  quasi-religious  or  charitable  uses  within  a 
year  before  the  donor's  death.  But  when  once  the  gift 
has  taken  legal  effect  the  English  law,  and  still  more  the 
English  custom,  have  always  been  in  favour  of  treating 
with  special  sacredness  and  reverence  the  intentions  and 
dispositions  of  the  giver.  And  thus  it  would  seem  that 
we  actually  elevate  to  the  rank  of  legislators  a  body  of 

1  Religio  Medici. 


198     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

men  who  have  had  no  other  qualification  to  exercise 
such  a  function  than  is  represented  by  the  accident  that 
they  had  money  to  dispose  of.  Much  of  the  education 
of  England,  and  many  of  its  most  important  public  and 
social  interests  have,  during  many  centuries,  been  domi- 
nated by  a  code  of  laws  which  has  never  been  deliberately 
sanctioned  by  the  legislature,  but  is  the  creation  of  a 
number  of  amateur  statesmen,  few  of  whom  possessed 
much  political  foresight,  and  most  of  whom  were  destitute 
of  any  strong  sense  of  reponsibility  to  the  public.  Yet 
it  is  to  this  parliament  of  dead  men,  self-constituted, 
heterogeneous  and  sometimes  incompetent,  that  we  have 
been  accustomed  to  pay  as  much  deference  and  to  assign 
as  much  real  power  as  to  King,  Lords  and  Commons 
put  together.  We  have  dealt  more  tenderly  with  its 
caprices,  we  have  sought  more  anxiously  to  interpret  its 
utterances,  and  we  have  been  in  far  greater  dread  of  over- 
ruling or  revoking  its  decisions.  The  explanation  of  the 
deep-rooted  instinct  which  underlies  this  policy  is  not  far 
to  seek.  It  is  the  name  of  benevolence  which  beguiles 
our  judgment.  We  have  a  natural  but  rather  vague 
impression  that  charity,  almsgiving  and  provision  for  the 
ignorant  or  the  helpless  are  very  sacred  things,  and  it  is 
exceedingly  difficult  for  us  to  look  with  fresh  eyes  on  the 
question  whether  after  all  there  is  any  real  sacrifice  or 
self-denial  in  trying  to  control  the  expenditure  of  our 
money  when  it  is  no  longer  in  our  power  to  enjoy  it. 
Says  the  Duke  to  Claud io, 

"  If  thou  art  rich,  thou  art  poor; 
For,  like  the  ass  whose  back  with  ingots  bows, 
Thou  bearest  thy  heavy  riches  but  a  journey, 
And  Death  unloads  thee."  ' 

But  this  is  precisely  the  arrangement  to  which  many 

1  Measure  for  Measure,  III.  i.  25. 


Equitable  rigJits  of  founders  199 

a  charitable  founder  declines  to  submit.  He  refuses  to 
be  unladen  by  death  of  his  wealth  or  of  the  influence 
which  wealth  gives.  He  will  not  leave  his  successors  at 
liberty  to  use  their  own  discretion  as  to  the  disposal  of 
what  will  fall  to  their  share,  but  claims  to  control  it 
permanently,  and  thus  to  purchase  a  quasi-immortal ity 
for  himself.  He  is  more  concerned  to  erect  a  big,  im- 
pressive institution  which  may  loom  large  in  the  eyes  of 
posterity  and  bear  his  name  than  to  enquire  what  is  the 
wisest  and  most  effective  way  of  providing  educational 
or  other  help  for  those  he  most  desires  to  benefit.  In  a 
sense  not  contemplated  by  the  Apostle,  charity  is  thus 
often  made  to  "cover  a  multitude  of  sins." 

It  is  often  argued  that  a  man  has  a  right  to  do  what  The 

he  will  with *his  own,  whether  what  is  his  own  has  become  Cll"ltat',e 

.  rights  of 

so  by  inheritance  or  by  acquisition.     Grant,  it  is  sa.k\,  fu/a/ers. 

that  it  is  for  the  public  interest  to  leave  the  privilege  of 

bequest   unfettered    in  relation  to  children  or  private 

friends,  and  you  are  equally  bound  to  concede  that  right 

in  respect  to  any  public  objects  which  the  testator  may 

prefer.    There  is,  however,  an  important  distinction  here. 

If  a  man  leaves  money  to  me,  or  even  if  he  leaves  me 

only  a  life  interest  in  an  estate,  I  am  at  least  at  liberty 

to  spend  the  income  as  I  will.     If,  in  bequeathing  an 

income  to  me,  he  also  prescribed  minutely  the  way  in 

which  I  should  spend  it  —  if,  for  example,  he  desired  that 

I  should  employ  the  whole  revenue  in  the  purchase  of 

coats  of  a  particular  cut  and  pattern,  with  his  initials 

embroidered  on  the  collar,  I  should  probably  decline  to 

accept  the  legacy.     But  when  the  community  or  some 

section  of  it  is  the  legatee,  it  is  always  assumed  that  it  is 

bound  to  accept  the  gift,  and  to  observe  as  a  sacred  trust 

all  the  conditions,  however  fanciful,  which  the  giver  has 

chosen  to  impose.     Endowments  come  to  the  public  on 


200     Endowments  and  their  influence  071  Education 

a  condition  which  never  applies  to  private  benefactions 
at  all;  viz.,  on  the  condition  that  the  beneficiaries  shall 
spend  the  annual  income  in  the  way  prescribed  by  the 
giver.  In  both  of  these  cases  he  exercises  the  very  reason- 
able right  of  nominating  his  successor.  But  in  one  case 
he  does  more  than  this,  for  he  not  only  names  the  public 
as  his  heir,  but  he  undertakes  to  determine  for  all  future 
time,  the  mode  in  which  the  revenue  of  his  estate  shall 
be  expended.  There  is,  in  fact,  no  analogy  between  a 
private  gift  or  bequest  on  the  one  hand,  and  a  permanent 
endowment  for  a  public  purpose  on  the  other.  Nor 
would  the  equitable  conditions  of  the  two  kinds  of 
benevolence  admit  of  fair  comparison,  unless  the  State, 
as  representing  the  community,  which  is  after  all  the 
legatee  supposed  to  receive  the  advantage  of 'the  benefac- 
tion, asserted  for  herself  the  twofold  right  which  belongs 
to  every  private  legatee :  (i)  To  judge  for  herself  whether 
the  conditions  attached  to  the  gift  are  such  as  to  make  it 
worth  acceptance;  and  (2)  to  spend  the  income  of  the 
endowment  in  the  way  which  she  deems  best  for  her 
own  interest  and  for  meeting  her  own  needs. 

This  second  condition,  of  course,  cannot  in  practice 
be  fulfilled  without  undermining  the  foundation  of  en- 
dowments altogether.  If  it  were,  and  not  until  it  were 
fulfilled  it  would  be  possible  to  apply  the  same  reasoning 
inforo  conscientia  to  the  validity  and  sacredness  of  private 
and  of  public  bequests.  But  as  a  matter  of  fact  and  of 
human  experience,  all  civilized  States  are  found  in  dif- 
ferent degrees  willing  to  accept  gifts  from  dying  men,  and 
to  give  to  the  provisions  of  their  deeds  of  gift  the  force 
of  law.  It  is  needless  to  discuss  the  question  of  natural 
right  in  this  case.  Probably  if  we  could  look  on  the 
question  with  eyes  purged  rom  all  prejudice  and  consult 
Nature  herself,  she  would  reply  that  no  man  has  a  right 


The  interest  of  t  lie  State  in  endow  incuts     201 

to  do  more  than  administer  such  resources  as  he  pos- 
sesses; and  that  when  he  ceases  to  live  he  ceases  to  be 
a  fitting  director  of  the  expenditure  derived  from  pro- 
perty, and  ought  to  leave  the  control  of  that  expenditure 
to  his  heirs,  or,  failing  heirs,  to  the  community  as  repre- 
sented for  the  time  being  by  its  responsible  government. 
We  may,  however,  leave  to  speculative  philosophers  the 
discussion  of  the  question,  How  far  is  the  power  of 
distribution  by  bequest  based  on  natural  right?  For 
practical  purposes  we  know  that  this  power  is  the  creation 
of  law  and  of  expediency,  and  that  all  civilized  States 
recognize  it  and  protect  its  exercise.  It  is,  therefore, 
open  to  us  to  consider,  on  grounds  of  expediency  and 
experience  only,  what  are  the  reasons  which  justify 
States  in  thus  protecting  the  privilege  of  bequest,  and 
within  what  limits,  if  any,  that  privilege  should  be 
restricted. 

It  is  obvious,   in  the  first  place,  that  the  State  is  The  State 
interested  in  encouraging  the  acquisition  of  property.  *."  ^"-' 
Almost  every  man  who  succeeds  in  amassing  a  fortune  taining 
by  honourable  means  must,  in  the  act  of  amassing  it, l  esj 
have  put  forth  power  and  exercised  virtues  which  have 
helped  to  enrich  the  State.     The  whole  community  is 
concerned  to  diminish  the  temptation  to  idleness  on  the 
part  of  its  members,  and  to  put  all  reasonable  bounties 
and  premiums  upon  those  efforts  by  which  wealth   is 
accumulated.    And  among  such  bounties  and  premiums, 
the  legal  right  to  make  a  man's  wishes  operative  after  his 
death,  and  so  to  secure,  what  we  all  value,  a  little  share 
of  posthumous  influence,  a  small  fragment  of  immortality, 
is  one  of  the  most  effective.     Apart,  therefore,  from  all 
considerations  respecting  the  ultimate  value  of  a  gift  to 
a  beneficiary,  it  is  certain  that  the  power  to  dispose  of 
property  is  itself  a  great  incentive  to  accumulation,  and 


202     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

is  one  which,  in  her  own  interest,  the  State  does  well 
to  provide. 

We  have  all,  as  citizens,  a  further  motive  for  giving  a 
reasonable  encouragement  to  public  benefactions.  It  is 
good  that  a  man  should  care  about  some  larger  interests 
than  those  which  concern  his  own  person  and  family. 
These  last  have,  no  doubt,  the  first  claim  upon  him ;  but 
unless  his  sympathies  extend  further,  he  is  a  poor  creature, 
and  unworthy  to  be  the  inheritor  of  great  benefits  and 
great  traditions.  Our  debt  to  parents  cannot,  of  course, 
be  fully  paid  to  parents;  the  largest  part  of  it  must  be 
paid  to  those  towards  whom  in  time  we  shall  occupy  the 
place  of  ancestors.  This  is  Nature's  provision  for  the 
transmission  of  nearly  all  that  is  good  in  the  world. 
Gratitude  to  one's  predecessors  must  in  practice  be 
shown  by  acts  which  will  excite  the  gratitude  of  our 
successors.  And  the  legal  sanction  given  to  endowments 
is  one  mode  of  keeping  alive  tlys  feeling  of  moral  obli- 
gation to  posterity,  this  recognition  of  the  fact  that  each 
human  being  is  a  link  by  which  what  is  best  in  the  past 
should  be  united  with  what  shall  be  still  better  in  the 
future.  Without  such  recognition  mankind  would  slowly 
degenerate.  If  there  be  a  man  who  thinks  that,  as  soon 
as  he  has  done  with  the  world,  it  matters  not  what 
becomes  of  it,  the  sooner  the  world  has  done  with  him 
the  better.  The  "enthusiasm  of  humanity,"  which  is 
the  product  of  the  Christian  faith,  and  the  sense  of  duty 
to  posterity  which  Comte  inculcated  and  which  forms 
one  of  the  cardinal  items  in  the  Positivistcode,  arealike 
in  this,  that  they  seek  to  awaken  in  man  some  solicitude 
about  the  future  of  his  race,  and  some  desire  to  have  an 
honourable  share  in  the  moulding  of  that  future.  All 
our  polity,  legal  and  social,  all  our  history  and  all  our 
experience  ought  gradually  to  deepen  and  enlarge  this 


Endowments  encourage  new  experiments     203 

sense  of  obligation  towards  posterity.  If  it  be  not  deep- 
ened and  enlarged,  then  Christianity  and  civilization 
alike  fail  to  fulfil  their  purpose. 

Apart  from  the  moral  influence  on  national  character  Endow- 

and  on  the  spirit  of  citizenship,  which  may  be  maintained  "H'"'s  Wi!] 
1  L  J  encourage 

by  preserving  the  right  of  endowment,  there  is  a  practical  variety, 

advantage  which  we  cannot  overlook.     The  tendency  of  ";',/  Hfw 

°  J         experi- 

all  improvement  is  towards  differentiation,  not  to  uni-  ments. 
fcrmity.1  Every  nation  is  interested  in  encouraging  new 
varieties  of  enterprise  and  new  forms  of  experiment  in 
regard  to  the  solution  of  its  public  problems.  An  auto- 
cratic government  seeks  to  mould  all  institutions  after 
one  official  pattern;  undertakes  to  deal  with  such  matters 
as  railways,  poverty,  education  and  religion  in  accord- 
ance with  a  fixed  plan,  and  thus  pro  tanto  discourages 
all  private  initiative.  But  the  government  which  best 
suits  free  men  welcomes  the  co-operation  of  all  citizens 
in  efforts  for  social  amelioration.  It  has  no  horror  of 
fads  and  crotchets  and  new  types  of  institutions.  It 
knows  well  that  the  originality  and  inventiveness  of  pri- 
vate citizens  make  up  a  large  part  of  the  public  wealth; 
and*  that  out  of  experiments,  which  at  first  appeared  to 
be  useless,  and  even  ridiculous,  some  of  the  most  valu- 
able results  have  grown.  J.  S.  Mill  has  said  :  "  Since  trial 
alone  can  decide  whether  any  particular  experiment  is 
successful,  latitude  should  be  given  for  carrying  on  the 
experiment  until  the  trial  is  complete.  For  the  length 
of  time,  therefore,  which  individual  foresight  can  reason- 
ably be  supposed  to  cover,  and  during  which  circum- 
stances are  not  likely  to  have  so  totally  changed  as  to 
make  the  effect  of  the  gift  entirely  different  from  what 
the  giver  intended,   there  is  an  obvious  propriety  in 

1  See  ante,  p.  1 06. 


204     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

abiding  by  his  disposition.  .  .  .  Within  the  probable  limits 

of  human  foresight,  the  more  scope  that  is  given  to  the 

varieties  of  human  individuality,  the  better."  x 

But  some-        The  energetic  plea  of  Mr  Mill  for  endowments  as  a 

i">!esserve  means  of  perpetuating  new,  original,  possibly  eccentric 

to  prevent  r      r  o  o  i  j 

improve-  and  unpopular,  but  ultimately  valuable  forms  of  public 
meni,  benevolence  and  educational  activity  would  be  more 
weighty  if  his  argument  had  not  been  tested  in  England 
by  centuries  of  experience.  It  was  my  duty  to  examine 
and  report  upon  upwards  of  one  hundred  endowed 
grammar  schools  before  the  great  reform  of  1869,  and 
their  most  notable  feature  was  their  curious  sameness. 
Whatever  was  striking  and  novel  in  the  original  concep- 
tion of  the  founder  had  long  ago  disappeared;  but  the 
restrictions  remained  in  full  force.  The  founder's  direc- 
tions that  the  instruction  should  be  confined  to  Latin 
and  Greek  had  the  effect  of  furnishing  a  reason  why 
nothing  else  should  be  taught;  but  in  very  rare  cases  did 
they  have  the  effect  of  teaching  even  those  languages 
well.  The  dead  hand  everywhere  repressed  originality, 
discouraged  all  effort  on  the  part  of  teachers  to  get  out 
of  the  groove;  but  in  no  case  was  it  an  instrument  of 
improvement.  Variety,  enterprise,  freshness,  enthusiasm, 
even  eccentricity,  are  all  of  them,  in  their  way,  potent 
factors  in  the  improvement  of  education.  We  cannot 
afford  to  dispense  with  them.  The  more  we  can  have  of 
them  the  better.  But  sad  experience  leads  us  to  con- 
clude that  none  of  these  have  been  produced  by  endow- 
ments. There  is  nothing  more  monotonous  than  the 
routine  practised  by  mere  pedants,  who  are  repressed 
and  hampered  by  statutes  and  ordinances  to  which 
they  must  pay  a  nominal  respect,  but  which  it  is  now 

1  John  Stuart  Mill,  Dissertations,  Vol.  IV.  p.  6. 


Conditions  of  vitality  205 


impossible  to  obey  either  in  the  spirit  or  the  letter.  For 
however  enlightened  the  view  of  the  founders  may  have 
been  relating  to  the  needs  of  their  own  contemporaries, 
the  very  fact  that  those  views  are  embodied  in  statutes 
and  ordinances  renders  them  difficult  if  not  incapable 
of  modification  when  new  and  unexpected  circumstances 
arise.  Hence  come  stagnation,  rigidity  and  a  sort  of 
dull  decorum,  a  disposition  to  rest  rather  upon  the 
traditions  of  the  past  than  upon  any  obligations  to  the 
present  or  the  future;  a  vague  notion  that  in  some  way 
an  ancient  foundation  is  a  more  respectable  institution 
than  one  which  has  to  assert  its  own  right  to  recognition 
by  making  itself  useful  to  the  present  generation.  And 
all  these  influences  combine  to  produce,  not  the  variety 
of  type  which  is  held  in  such  just  esteem  by  Mill  and 
other  abstract  thinkers,  but  a  dead  level  of  monotony. 

With  the  teaching  of  history  for  our  guidance,  what  Conditions 
are  the  conditions  under  which  charitable  foundations  °fTllallly 

in  en- 

can  best  be  made  to  fulfil  their  highest  purposes  and  Xo  dowed  in- 
become  blessings  rather  than  curses  to  posterity?  \\jestitutions. 
cannot  repress  the  instinct  which  leads  founders  to  endow 
institutions.  A  wise  statesman  would  not  do  so  if  he 
could.  Nor  can  we  safely  put  any  hindrances  in  the  way 
of  new  experiments  either  in  philanthropy  or  education. 
But  we  can  deduce  from  past  experience  a  few  practical 
inferences;  and  so  may  be  helped  to  guard  against  the 
recurrence  at  least  of  some  of  the  more  serious  evils 
which  seem  to  be  inherent  in  all  fondations  a  perpetuite 
unless  due  precautions  are  taken. 

The  first  condition  to  be  filled  is  that  the  object  or  That  the 
purpose  of  the  gifts  should  be  such  that  it  is  for  the  public  pl},cct,  • , 
advantage  that  they  should  be  received.     The  community  a  worthy 
as  a  whole  should  in  fact  exercise  the  same  right  that onc- 
belongs  to  any  private  legatee,  —  the  right  to  decline 


206     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

any  gift  which  is  clogged  by  unsuitable  and  unworkable 
conditions,  or  which  is  designed  for  a  useless  object. 
Private  persons,  as  I  have  said,  can,  if  a  bequest  be  made 
to  them,  choose  either  to  accept  or  to  reject  the  gift.  The 
State  is  the  only  legatee  which  is  ready  to  accept  in  the 
name  of  the  community  any  gift,  and  to  enforce  the  pro- 
visions of  any  trust,  whether  such  acceptance  is  or  is  not 
desirable  in  se.  We  need,  therefore,  clear  conceptions  as 
to  the  kind  of  gifts  which  the  public  are  interested  in 
receiving  and  those  which  it  would  be  wiser  for  the  public 
to  reject.  All  gifts  which  purport  to  redress  the  evils  of 
poverty  or  improvidence  need  to  be  received  with  much 
caution  and  misgiving.  The  provision  of  funds  for  the 
propagation  of  the  testator's  opinions  by  means  of  preach- 
ing, lectures,  publications  or  other  forms  of  intelligent 
persuasion  are  legitimate  enough,  but  all  forms  of  charity 
which  even  indirectly  operate  as  rewards  or  bribes  for 
holding  or  professing  such  opinions  are  clearly  mis- 
chievous. Charities,  limited  as  regards  their  future  and 
permanent  destination  to  founder's  kin,  or  to  the  in- 
habitants of  a  particular  district,  are  apt  to  lead  to  litiga- 
tion and  other  practical  evils.  But  gifts  for  the  blind, 
for  the  sick,  for  the  deaf,  for  the  aged;  endowments  for 
public  instruction  in  the  form  of  schools,  libraries,  pro- 
fessorships and  the  encouragement  of  research;  provision 
for  public  recreation  in  the  form  of  parks,  playgrounds, 
picture  galleries  and  museums  —  all  precautions,  in  short, 
against  evils  and  disadvantages  which  those  who  suffer 
from  them  did  not  bring  upon  themselves,  and  which, 
therefore,  are  not  likely  to  be  aggravated  by  the  existence 
of  an  endowment,  are  legitimate,  and  will,  under  right 
conditions,  always  be  acceptable  gifts  to  a  well-ordered 

That  the     immunity. 

mode  of  But  the  true  value  even  of  such  legitimate  provision 


The  Johns  Hopkins   University  207 

depends  entirely  on  the  mode  in  which  it  is  made.     The  attaining 
first  condition  of  a  useful  endowment  is  that  the  end  it'  s.  ,u, 

not  be  loo 
purposes  to  attain  is  a  worthy  one,  and  conducive  to  the  rigidly 

public  advantage.     But  the  second  is  no  less  important.  Prescn  "'•'■ 

It  is  that  the  means  and  machinery  by  which  the  end  is 

to  be  attained  shall  not  be  too  rigidly  prescribed.    Unless 

this  second  condition  be  fulfilled  it  is  to  little  purpose 

that  we  secure  the  first.     And  in  practice,  the  second  is 

more  rarely  attained  than  the  first.     It  is  far  easier  to 

have  a  clear  vision  as  to  the  worthiness  of  an  object  than 

to  forecast  the  best  of  the  many  different  ways  by  which 

that  object  may  be  accomplished.     Now  and  then  we 

are  fortunate  enough  to  receive  gifts  from  testators  who 

have  had  the  wisdom  to  recognize  this  fact  and  to  leave 

large  liberty  to  their  successors  to  adapt  their  regulations 

to  future  needs.     Let  me  choose  two  examples  of  this 

enlightened  liberality,  one  from  each  side  of  the  Atlantic. 

From  an  admirable  address   by   President   Oilman  The  Johns 
before  the  Johns  Hopkins  University  at  Baltimore  I  take  r/„jje"l 
this  extract :  sity. 

"Johns  Hopkins  devoted  his  fortune  to  a  University 
and  to  a  Hospital,  intending  that  as  far  as  medical  educa- 
tion was  concerned,  the  two  institutions  should  be  the 
closest  allies,  but  he  did  not  prescribe  the  conditions 
under  which  these  two  ideas  should  be  developed.  He 
knew  that  the  promotion  of  knowledge  by  charity  would 
call  for  very  large  outlays  in  all  future  generations,  but  in 
planning  for  the  remote  as  well  as  for  the  present,  he  was 
sagacious  enough  to  perceive  that  methods  must  change 
with  changing  circumstances,  and  he  left  to  the  trustees 
all  the  freedom  which  was  requisite  for  the  administration 
of  their  work,  consistently  with  adherence  to  the  noble 
purposes  which  he  had  in  mind.  He  provided  with 
equal   liberality   for   the   promotion   <  f   an   educational 


2o8     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

foundation  of  the  highest  name,  and  for  a  medical 
foundation,  where  the  utmost  skill  should  be  employed 
in  the  alleviation  of  bodily  infirmities.  But  the  mode 
in  which  these  establishments  should  be  organized  he 
left  to  the  wisdom  of  others." 
Sir  Josiah  The  second  example  I  shall  cite  is  that  of  Josiah 
Mason's     ^ason    the   eminent   and    successful    manufacturer   in 

founaa-  ' 

Horn.  Birmingham,  who  devoted  a  large  part  of  his  fortune 
to  public  objects.  Perhaps  1  may,  without  egotism,  best 
tell  his  story  by  an  extract  from  my  own  evidence  given 
in  1886  before  a  Committee  of  the  House  of  Commons, 
charged  with  the  duty  of  enquiring  into  the  working  of  the 
Charitable  Trusts  Acts  and  the  Endowed  Schools  Acts. 
The  questioner  was  Mr  C.  S.  Parker,  a  distinguished 
member  of  the  Parliamentary  Committee:  — 

Evidence  1435-    Speaking  generally,  should  you  say  that  since  1869  very 

before  areat  public  benefit  has  been  conferred  by  the  revision  of  educa- 

Lommittee  tjonai  endowments  by  public  authorities  ?  —  Enormous  public  bene- 

°House  of     fit'  l  should  think- 

Commons  1436.   You  are  aware,  of  course,  that  there  have  been  some 

on  ediica-  strong  objections  made  to  that  kind  of  interference;  for  instance, 
(tonal  en-  -m  ^^  interference  there  has  been  necessarily  much  free  hand- 
ling of  the  endowments,  has  there  not  ?  much  change  of  the  pur- 
poses to  which  they  were  directed  ?  —  Yes,  no  doubt,  and  alteration 
of  the  trusts  under  which  the  governors  were  bound  to  carry  on  the 
work  of  a  school. 

1437.  And  within  certain  limits  departures  lrom  founders'  in- 
tentions ? — Necessarily. 

1438.  There  is  one  general  objection  made,  that  such  depar- 
ture from  founders'  intentions  has  a  direct  tendency  to  discourage 
similar  foundations  for  the  future;  should  you  say,  from  your  expe- 
rience, that  there  is  such  a  result  from  this  public  revision  of  endow- 
ments ? —  I  should  say  that  the  modern  interference  with  the  trusts 
established  by  founders  has  probably  had  the  effect  of  discouraging 
some  of  the  more  selfish  and  ostentatious  forms  of  endowment,  those 
which  the  public  is  least  interested  in  receiving.  But  I  have  no 
doubt  that  it  has  given  a  very  remarkable  impulse  to  all  the  truer  and 


Sir  Josiah  JHason  209 

wiser  forms  of  endowment;  and  perhaps  the  best  proof  of  that  is  to 
be  found  in  the  fact  that  there  never  have  been  in  the  history  of  Eng- 
land, as  far  as  I  know,  such  large  bequests  and  gifts  to  public  pur- 
poses as  within  the  last  few  years,  and  since  the  Charitable  Trusts 
Acts  and  the  Endowed  Schools  Acts  have  been  in  full  operation. 

1439.  If  I  understand  you  rightly,  your  view  is,  that  with  the 
best  class  of  founders,  so  far  from  discouraging,  this  public  super- 
vision positively  encourages  them  to  spend  their  money  in  endow- 
ments ?  —  Certainly,  I  think  the  best  proof  of  that  is,  as  I  have  just 
said,  the  very  large  number  of  munificent  gifts  and  bequests  that 
have  been  made  within  the  last  few  years. 

1440.  Could  you  give  any  striking  instances  to  illustrate  that 
statement  ?  —  I  may  refer  to  the  Peabody  Trust  ;  that  was  not,  it  is 
true,  for  education,  but  for  a  very  large  public  purpose  ;  then  there 
were  Sir  Joseph  Whitworth's  scholarships  ;  then  there  is  the  muni- 
ficent foundation  of  Mr  Hollovvay,  at  Egham  ;  and  there  are  the  very 
remarkable  institutions  founded  by  Sir  Josiah  Mason,  at  Birmingham ; 
to  say  nothing  of  the  large  number  of  splendid  gifts  that  have  been 
made  to  the  Universities  since  University  legislation  has  been  in 
progress.  If  the  chairman  will  permit  me  I  should  like  to  mention 
one  circumstance  which  seems  to  me  very  significant  in  relation  to 
the  question  of  the  honourable  member.  In  1869,  when  I  was 
engaged  on  a  special  Parliamentary  inquiry  into  the  condition  of 
education  in  Birmingham,  the  late  Sir  Josiah  Mason  said  he  should 
like  to  show  me  over  his  orphanage,  which  he  had  then  very 
recently  founded,  and  he  described  to  me  on  that  occasion  the  very 
bountiful  provision  he  had  made  for  the  future  maintenance  of  this 
institution.  He  also  told  me  what  schemes  he  then  had  in  his  mind 
for  the  endowment  of  the  great  Science  College  which  has  since 
been  established.  I  said  to  him  then :  "  Are  you  not  afraid  of  leaving 
such  large  bequests  to  posterity  when  you  see  the  modern  tendency 
to  overhaul  and  revise  the  wills  of  founders  ?  "  He  replied  :  "  That 
is  the  very  reason  why  I  feel  such  confidence  in  leaving  these  sums 
of  money.  If  it  were  not  that  public  authorities  are  likely  to  be 
vigilant  and  to  correct  any  mistake  that  I  make,  and  to  take  care 
to  keep  these  institutions  in  full  working  efficiency,  I  should  feel 
very  much  hesitation  in  leaving  such  large  sums  to  my  successors." 
It  was  in  this  spirit  that  in  the  following  year,  1870,  he  introduced 
into  his  deed  of  foundation  for  the  Science  College  this  provision  : 
"  Provided  always,  that  it  shall  be  lawful  for  the  said  Josiah  Mason  at 

P 


2  io     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

any  time  during  his  life,  and  after  his  decease  for  the  trustees,  within 
two  years  after  the  expiration  of  every  successive  period  of  fifteen 
years,  to  alter  or  vary  the  trusts  or  provisions  herein  contained  in 
all  or  any  of  the  following  particulars."  Then  he  enumerates  every 
one  of  the  particulars,  except  the  general  object  of  the  foundation, 
namely,  the  improvement  of  scientific  instruction.  The  obvious 
intention  of  this  was  to  take  care  to  provide  for  the  periodical 
revision  and  modification  of  every  one  of  the  ordinances  and  arrange- 
ments which  he  had  laid  down,  stipulating  only  that  the  main 
object  of  the  foundation  should  be  kept  in  view.  I  do  not  want  to 
attach  too  much  importance  to  a  single  incident,  but  I  think  it 
significant  that  this  clause  occurs  in  the  deed  which  he  executed  in 
the  year  1870  for  the  Science  College,  and  does  not  occur  in  the  deed 
which  he  executed  for  his  orphanage  in  the  year  1868.  It  was 
exactly  within  that  interval  that  all  those  public  discussions  and 
revelations  went  on  in  reference  to  the  abuses  of  ancient  endow- 
ments and  the  propriety  of  revising  the  founders'  wills. 

1441.  So  you  think  it  reasonable  to  infer  that  he  was  partly 
guided  in  his  latter  will  by  the  wish  to  see  public  revision  from 
experience  of  its  benefits  ?  —  That  is  certainly  the  impression  I  gained 
from  the  history  of  his  endowments  and  from  what  he  said  to  me. 

1442.  Do  you  think  that  that  would  be  the  case  with  many  en- 
lightened and  intelligent  founders,  that  they  would  be  more  disposed, 
instead  of  being  less  disposed  to  give  their  money,  if  they  thought 
there  would  be  future  public  revision  ?  —  With  all  the  wisest  and 
most  truly  benevolent  founders,  I  think  it  would. 

But  dispositions  of  this  kind  are  only  made  when  to 

benevolent  instincts  are  united  wisdom,  forethought,  and 

modesty.     And  this  is  a  rare  combination.     You  cannot 

expect  it  in  all  testators,  or  in  very  many  of  them.     And 

society  must,   when   these  are  wanting,    take    its   own 

measures  to  supply  a  substitute  for  them. 

Super-  Hence,  whether  the  testator  provides  for  the  revision 

l'tS!0".a" "of  his  ordinances  or  not,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that 

amem/-      his  institutions  should  not  be  permitted  to  survive  their 

men/,  the    usefuiness  ancj  to  cumber  the  ground.     To  this  end  the 

duty  oj  the  ° 

State.         State   should    have  the  power  to  do  what  in  his  un- 


Constitution  of  governing  bodies  211 


avoidable  absence  it  may  be  presumed  that  the  testator, 
if  he  were  as  benevolent  and  wise  as  we  like  to  think 
him,  would  himself  have  done  had  he  lived,  i.e.,  revise 
his  ordinances  and  adapt  them  to  the  changed  condition 
of  society.  It  is  a  poor  compliment  to  a  departed  bene- 
factor to  assume  that,  if  now  living,  he  would  be  less 
amenable  to  the  teaching  of  experience  or  less  anxious 
to  meet  the  actual  wants  of  the  present  than  he  was  in 
his  own  time,  or  than  we  are  in  ours.  His  means  and 
methods,  therefore,  should  both  be  subject  to  periodical 
reconsideration,  and,  if  necessary,  to  resolute  and  drastic 
reform.  And  so  long  as  the  general  object  and  purposes 
of  a  foundation  —  presuming  that  it  is  in  itself  a  worthy 
one  —  is  kept  in  view,  the  adaptation  of  new  and  improved 
methods  of  attaining  that  object,  is  the  most  honourable 
tribute  posterity  can  pay  to  a  founder's  memory;  because 
it  is  the  only  condition  on  which  the  vitality  and  useful- 
ness of  his  charity  can  be  preserved. 

But  the  most  important  of  all  the  securities  for  the  Conkitu- 
efficiency  of  foundations  is  the  provision  for  a  good  and  hon  °J  . 

J  r  o  governing 

responsible  governing  body.  It  is  to  the  wrong  constitu-  bodies. 
tion  of  the  governing  bodies  that  more  than  half  of  the 
evils  of  endowments  have  been  due.  A  testator  confides 
the  administration  of  his  fund  to  a  small  group  of  trustees, 
with  power  to  fill  up  vacancies  as  they  occur.  By  this 
process  of  co-optation  or  self-election,  the  body  becomes 
year  by  year  more  narrow,  whatever  of  party  exclusive- 
ness  belongs  to  the  original  trustees  becomes  stereotyped 
and  rendered  permanent,  and  the  trust  becomes  more  and 
more  completely  out  of  sympathy  with  the  public  and 
less  conscious  of  responsibility.  In  fact,  it  is  not  un- 
common to  hear  the  members  of  such  governing  bodies 
speak  of  the  fund  they  administer  as  their  property,  and 
of  the  right  which  they  have  to  administer  it  in  their  own 


2 1 2     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

way  and  without  interference.  In  no  European  country 
known  to  me,  except  England,  is  such  an  arrangement 
legally  possible.  In  France,  e.g.,  a  bequest  for  a  public 
purpose,  whether  local  or  national,  must  be  confided  to 
the  care  of  a  municipality,  a  university,  or  some  public 
body  known  to  the  law  and  responsible  to  it.  It  is  not 
lawful  to  create  a  perpetual  private  trust. 

In  England,  governing  bodies  composed  of  various 
ingredients  have  been  found  to  work  best  and  to  be  most 
congenial  to  the  spirit  of  our  national  institutions.  Expe- 
rience has  shown  that  the  staple  of  a  good  governing 
council  should  be  provided  by  members  appointed 
from  time  to  time  by  election  or  by  responsible  public 
authorities  who  represent  the  interests  of  the  several 
classes  for  whom  the  benevolence  was  designed.  The 
body  thus  formed  should  have  the  power  of  adding  to 
its  own  number  a  limited  contingent  of  outside  members, 
known  to  possess  special  knowledge  or  special  interest 
in  the  objects  of  the  charity.  Co-optation,  as  we  have 
shown,  is  mischievous  when  it  applies  to  the  whole  of 
a  body,  or  even  to  the  majority  of  it,  for  then  it  may 
cause  trustees  to  degenerate  into  a  narrow  clique.  But 
co-optation  when  it  affects  only  a  minority  among  trustees 
most  of  whom  are  themselves  the  product  of  popular  or 
official  selection  is  only  an  indirect  form  of  representative 
government,  and  often  has  the  effect  of  strengthening  a 
trust  by  enlisting  in  its  management  the  services  of 
valuable  members,  who  might  not  for  various  reasons 
have  been  candidates  for  popular  election. 

Finally,  one  of  the  main  safeguards  which  modern 
legislation  has  in  England  sought  to  provide,  though  as 
yet  it  has  only  provided  it  imperfectly,  is  that  of  publicity. 
It  has  been  found  indispensable  that  every  endowed  in- 
stitution should  annually  publish  its  accounts,  and  that 


Practical  Conclusions  213 

there  should  be  a  periodical  and  public  record  made  of 
its  efficiency  and  of  the  kind  and  amount  of  public  work 
which  it  is  actually  accomplishing.  Whatever  difference 
of  opinion  may  exist  on  the  abstract  right  of  the 
Government  as  the  representative  of  the  community  to 
control  an  endowment  and  to  override  the  intentions 
of  founders,  there  can  at  least  be  no  room  for  doubt 
on  one  point:  the  community  for  whose  benefit  the 
endowment  has  been  designed  has  in  its  capacity  of 
legatee  the  strongest  interest  in  learning  what  use  is 
made  of  its  inheritance,  and  an  unquestionable  right  to 
know  it. 

Such,  then,  are  the  antiseptics  by  means  of  which,  in  Summary 
England,  it  has  been  found  that  endowments,  especially  °fPracti' 

'       L  cat  con- 

those  of  an  educational  character,  can  be  kept  sweet  and  elusions. 
wholesome  and  without  which  abuses  and  corruption  are 
inevitable.  They  are :  undoubted  public  usefulness  in 
the  object;  elasticity  in  the  means;  periodical  revision, 
and,  if  needful,  reconstruction  of  the  scheme  of  adminis- 
tration; responsibility  of  governors  and  trustees  to  the 
community  for  whose  benefit  the  gift  was  intended; 
ample  publicity  and  constant  vigilance.  In  fine  we  need 
a  full  recognition  of  two  principles:  (1)  that  the  endow- 
ment exists  only  for  the  benefit  of  the  community  and 
has  no  other  right  to  exist  at  all,  and  (2)  that  the  State, 
as  the  supreme  trustee  of  all  endowments,  has  the  right 
though  in  a  cautious  and  reverential  spirit  to  make,  from 
time  to  time,  such  changes  in  the  destination  and  manage- 
ment of  charity  estates  as  the  experience  of  new  social 
needs  and  circumstances  may  show  to  be  necessary, 
and  in  this  way  to  secure  for  that  community  the  full 
benefit  of  what  has  been  bestowed  on  it. 

I   am  speaking  in  a  land  which    cannot  vet  have      •y' 

r  °  -  ana 

experienced  the  mischief  attendant  on  ancient  charitable  America. 


214     Endowments  and  their  influence  on  Education 

foundations,  but  which  possesses  in  a  high  degree  all  the 
materials  out  of  which  such  foundations  are  constructed 
—  opulence,  public  spirit  and  an  honourable  desire  to  be 
remembered  by  posterity  and  to  do  service  to  it.  In 
England  the  man  who  amasses  great  wealth  often  sets  his 
heart  on  founding  a  family,  on  getting  a  large  landed 
estate  and  on  taking  a  permanent  place  for  his  posterity 
among  the  territorial  aristocracy.  But  in  this  country 
the  possessor  of  a  colossal  fortune  often  conceives  the 
much  nobler  ambition  of  founding  some  great  institution 
for  the  public  benefit,  and  so  of  perpetuating  his  name. 
I  do  not  presume,  in  a  country  whose  traditions  and 
experience  are  so  different  from  those  of  England,  to 
offer  any  counsel  to  the  recipients  of  such  gifts.  But 
I  have  thought  it  possible  that  this  brief  record  of  a  few 
of  our  English  experiences  might  serve  some  useful 
purpose  even  here.  At  any  rate,  some  of  the  main  con- 
clusions which  I  have  ventured  to  enforce  are  applicable 
to  both  the  Eastern  and  the  Western  hemispheres,  to  the 
twentieth  century  as  well  as  to  the  sixteenth.  They  are 
briefly  these:  First,  That  the  intellectual  and  social 
wants  of  each  age  differ,  and  always  must  differ,  from 
those  of  its  predecessors,  and  that  no  human  foresight 
can  possibly  estimate  the  nature  and  extent  of  the 
difference.  Next,  That  the  value  of  a  gift  for  public, 
purposes  depends  not  on  the  bigness  of  the  sum  given, 
but  upon  the  wisdom  of  the  regulations  and  upon  the 
elasticity  of  the  conditions  which  are  attached  to  the  gift ; 
and  Finally,  That  every  institution  which  is  to  maintain 
its  vitality,  and  to  render  the  highest  service  to  successive 
generations  of  living  men  should  be  governed  by  the 
living  and  not  by  the  dead. 


LECTURE   VII 

ASCHAM   AND    THE   SCHOOLS   OF   THE 
RENAISSANCE 

The  Modern  English  school  the  product  of  growth,  not  of  manu- 
facture. The  influence  of  religion.  Greek  served  to  shape  the 
Creeds  and  theology.  But  Latin  more  studied  and  valued  by 
the  Church.  The  revival  of  Creek  learning  not  due  'to  the 
Church.  Pre-Reformation  Grammar  Schools.  Roger  Ascham. 
The  Scholemaster.  Ascham's  royal  pupils.  His  experience 
in  Italy.  St  Paul's  School.  Examples  of  Sixteenth  Century 
Statutes.  Chester,  Manchester,  Louth.  Choice  of  masters. 
The  scheme  of  Study.  Details  of  the  Grammar  School  cur- 
riculum. Disputations.  Hours  of  Study  and  of  Teaching. 
Vacations.  Punishments.  Payment  of  fees.  No  provision 
for  Girls'  education.  The  Grammar  School  theory.  How 
should  it  be  modified  by  later  experience  ?  How  much  of  it 
should  survive  ? 

In  further  illustration  of  the  debt  we  owe  to  the 
founders  of  ancient  educational  endowments,  it  may  be 
well  to  enquire  a  little  into  the  state  of  England  at  the 
time  of  the  revival  of  learning  and  immediately  before  it. 
We  may  do  this  in  part  by  considering  in  a  little  detail, 
the  life  and  doings  of  one  typical  English  scholar,  Roger 
Ascham. 

Before  attempting  this  task  we  must  observe  that  the  The 
educational   institutions  of   England,   like   its  political  '/.0/'/,'/'/''/l 
institutions,  and  its  vocabulary,  have  been  the  product  of  school  a 
215 


216     AscJiam  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

product  of  long  historical  development,  have  grown  out  of  the  neces- 
growt  wwf  sjtjes  an(j  experience  of  our  forefathers,  and  have  shaped 

of  manu-  l  1 

facture.  themselves  from  time  to  time  in  conformity  with  that 
experience.  They  have  become  what  they  are  by  a 
process  of  growth  and  evolution,  not  of  manufacture. 
We  cannot  point  to  the  period  when  they  originated,  or 
to  any  thinker  or  statesman  who  may  be  said  to  have 
created  them.  We  have  no  Code  Napoleon,  nothing  in 
our  history  analogous  to  the  foresight  of  John  Knox,  who 
founded  the  parish  school  system  of  Scotland  and  made 
possible  that  connexion  between  the  primary  schools  and 
the  Universities  which  still  exists.  We  cannot  name  a 
Statesman  like  Stein  or  Falk  in  Germany  who  has  orga- 
nized the  whole  system  of  public  instruction,  nor  had  we 
at  any  time  such  provision  as  that  made  by  the  Puritan 
fathers  of  the  New  England  States,  or  by  the  framers  of  the 
American  Constitution  for  setting  apart  for  ever  land  and 
resources  for  the  maintenance  of  the  common  schools. 
Our  system,  if  so  it  maybe  called,  is  the  resultant  not  of 
any  statesman's  or  philosopher's  insight  into  the  future; 
but  mainly  of  tradition  and  accident.  It  has  not  the 
symmetry  and  completeness  of  the  Swiss  or  German  or 
French  system;  and  its  history  is  a  record  of  anomalies 
and  compromises,  of  adaptations  to  the  wants  and  theories 
of  the  hour  rather  than  of  large  and  comprehensive 
statesmanship.  It  were  idle  to  regard  this  as  a  thing  to 
boast  of,  on  the  one  hand,  or  to  be  ashamed  of,  on  the 
other.  Every  nation  has  its  own  idiosyncrasy,  and  must 
solve  its  problems  in  its  own  way,  and  in  accordance 
with  its  own  genius  and  traditions.  And  the  English 
genius  it  must  be  owned  is  not  one  which  lends  itself 
readily  to  constitution  making,  to  the  framing  of  a 
philosophical  scheme  either  of  government  or  of  educa- 
tion.    It  proceeds  cautiously  and  tentatively.     In  slowly 


TJie  influence  of  religion  2 1 " 

building  its  constitutional  system  it  seeks  to  add  what  is 
new  to  the  best  of  what  is  old;  and  it  is  not  ashamed  or 
disappointed  when  the  resulting  edifice  is  found  to  be 
rather  rambling  and  shapeless  in  design,  so  long  as  it  is 
roomy  and  convenient. 

And  so  it  has  come  to  pass  that  the  history  of  educa-  The  infiu- 
tion  in  this  country  is  closely  associated  with  the  history  r'"'e  °J 

J  religion. 

of  religion,  and  still  bears  traces  of  the  influences  which 
prevailed  when  the  chief  object  of  all  instruction  was  to 
fit  men  for  the  service  of  the  Church.  Before  the  Refor- 
mation, when  such  educational  advantages  as  were  acces- 
sible were  the  privilege  of  rich  men  or  of  priests  there 
were  mainly  two  forms  of  discipline,  that  of  the  cloister, 
and  that  of  the  castle  or  the  manor  house.  The  young 
squire  or  nobleman  was  sufficiently  educated  if  he  could 
ride  and  hunt,  and  was  skilful  in  athletic  exercises  and 
in  the  arts  of  war.  Very  little  book  knowledge  was 
accessible  to  the  country  gentleman,  or  would  have 
seemed  desirable  either  to  society  or  to  himself.  Scott 
makes  the  Earl  of  Douglas  express  a  very  prevalent  dis- 
trust of  book  learning  when  he  said  of  young  Mar- 
in ion, 

At  first  in  heart  it  liked  me  ill. 

When  the   King  praised  his  clerkly  skill; 

and  added, 

Thanks  to  St  Bothan,  son  of  mine, 
Save  Gawain,  ne'er  could  pen  a  line. 

Gawain  was  designed  for  the  priesthood.  The  very  word 
"clerk"  with  its  ambiguous  modern  meaning  may  re- 
mind us  that  the  power  to  write  was  once  considered 
the  special  prerogative  of  the  clergy  and  of  those  edu- 
cated in  monasteries.  ^ 

Indeed  it  is  plain  that  the  whole  theory  of  classical  Greek 
education    is   closely  connected  with   the   relations  in served io 


2i8     AscJiam  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

shape  the  which  the  Greek  and  Latin  tongues  have  stood  in  early 
%ee/.  an  times  to  the  intellectual,  scientific,  and  spiritual  life  of 
Christendom.  The  treasures  of  Jewish  literature  as 
found  in  the  Old  Testament,  and  the  Greek  Gospels 
as  found  in  the  New,  furnished  the  equipment  of  the 
early  Christian  Church.  Greek  was,  so  to  speak,  the 
mother  tongue  of  the  Church.  St  Paul  wrote  in  it; 
the  Founder  of  Christianity  spoke  a  dialect  of  it;  the 
Churches  which  were  first  established  in  Europe  were 
Greek  religious  colonies.  The  first  Councils  of  the 
Church  were  conducted  in  that  language,  and,  when 
creeds  were  first  formulated,  they,  and  the  speculative 
discussions  out  of  which  they  arose,  took  their  shape 
from  the  Greek  language  and  Greek  forms  of  thought. 
The  translation  of  the  books  of  the  Old  Testament  into 
Greek  was  one  of  the  earliest  tasks  of  the  Christian 
fathers.  The  "Meditations"  of  Marcus  Aurelius  were 
written  in  Greek,  and  for  several  centuries  jurisprudence 
was  the  only  branch  of  learning  which  was  cultivated  in 
Latin. 

But  as  the  influence  of  the  Church  extended  farther 
into  the  Western  world  Latin  became  more  and  more 
studied.  From  the  time  when  Pope  Damasus  com- 
missioned Jerome  to  examine  and  correct  such  Latin 
versions  of  the  Gospels  as  then  existed,  and  to  revise 
the  Septuagint  version  of  the  Old  Testament,  and  thus 
to  produce  the  authoritative  version  of  the  whole  Bible 
which  is  known  as  the  Latin  Vulgate,  the  language  of 
ancient  Rome  gradually  became  dominant.  Latin 
schools  were  numerous  among  the  Western  nations,  and 
Hallam  thinks  that  a  knowledge  of  Latin  was  more 
common  by  the  end  of  the  twelfth  century  than  it  had 
ever  been  before.  And  it  is  to  be  observed  that  this 
language  was  the  basis  of  mediaeval  education,  not  merely 


Revival  of  Greek  learning  219 

because  of  the  beauty  or  worth  of  the  ancient  Roman 
literature,  which  was  thus  made  intelligible  to  a  later  age, 
nor  because  of  its  value  as  an  intellectual  gymnastic,  nor 
indeed  because  it  was  regarded  as  the  best  mode  of 
obtaining  a  thorough  command  of  a  modern  tongue,  but 
because  it  was  the  common  language  of  educated  people 
throughout  Western  Europe  —  the  language,  to  a  large 
extent,  of  philosophy  and  science  and  even  of  commerce, 
but  chiefly  the  language  of  religious  worship  and  instruc- 
tion, enforced  by  authority  as  the  one  visible  and  most 
effective  means  of  securing  the  unity  of  the  Church. 

During  a  long  period  the  study  of  the  ancient  Greek  But  Latin 
authors — of  Plato  and  Aristotle  —  wasgreatly  disregarded.  was  "tore 
The  fears  entertained  by  Gregory  the  Great  of  the  pos-  andvalued 

sible  dangers  of  secular  learning  and  of  heathen  specula-  ;!', t,ie  , 
0  _  L  Church. 

tions  were  largely  shared  by  his  successors,  and  from  the 

twelfth  to  the  fourteenth  centuries  the  Latin  which  was 

learned  in  the  monasteries  and  schools  was  not  classical, 

but  a  debased  form  of  language,  written  and  spoken  for 

practical  purposes  —  for  conference,  or  for  ecclesiastical 

controversy,  by  persons  who  were  mainly  indifferent  to 

literary  form.     It  was  not  till  a  later  date  that  Dante's 

affectionate  homage  to  Virgil,  and  Petrarch's  efforts  to 

resuscitate  a  taste  for  the  great  writers  of  the  Augustan 

age,  helped  to  make  classical  Latin  again  an  object  of 

general  study,  especially  in  the  Universities  of  Northern 

Italy. 

And,  with  the  revival  of  an  interest  in  the  master-  The 

pieces  of  Roman  literature,  there  soon  came  —  under  the  rr<'lval  °f 
1  Greek 

influence  mainly  of  Italian  scholars,  and  towards  the  end  learning 

of  the  fourteenth  century  —  a  corresponding  awakening  "0/ '?"''/'} 

of  desire  to  study  the  philosophy  and  the  poetry  of  Greece. 

It  took  another  century  before  this  revived  interest  in 

letters  reached  our  own  land,   and  it  is  to  Luther  in 


220      AscJiam  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

Germany,  and  to  Erasmus  and  his  friends  and  associates 
in  England,  that  we  must  attribute  the  zeal  for  classical 
scholarship  which  we  generally  associate  with  the  Renais- 
sance in  Western  Europe.  With  these  men  however 
it  was  no  indifference  to  religion,  nor  any  relapse  into 
heathenish  modes  of  thought,  which  led  them  to  the 
course  they  took.  In  their  case  it  was  a  profound  belief 
that  the  interests  of  true  religion  would  be  well  served 
by  sounder  and  more  generous  education.  Luther  says, 
in  his  famous  letter  to  the  burgomasters  of  Germany :  — 

"When  first  God  sent  the  apostles  throughout  the  world,  He 
gave  them  the  tongues  also.  Aye  and  beforehand,  by  the  Roman 
rule,  He  had  spread  the  Greek  and  Latin  tongues  in  all  lands,  that 
His  Gospel  might  bear  fruit  far  and  wide.  So  hath  He  done  now. 
No  one  knew  to  what  end  God  was  bringing  forth  the  tongues 
again,  till  now  it  is  seen  that  it  was  for  the  Gospel's  sake.  ...  As 
wc  hold  the  Gospel  dear  then,  so  let  us  hold  the  languages  fast.  If 
we  do  not  keep  the  tongues,  we  shall  not  keep  the  Gospel.  As 
the  sun  to  the  shadow,  so  is  the  tongue  itself  to  all  the  glosses  of 
the  Fathers.  Ah,  how  glad  the  dear  Fathers  would  have  been  if 
they  could  have  so  learned  Holy  Scripture." 

And  Erasmus  too,  whose  profound  spiritual  enthusi- 
asm furnishes  the  key  both  to  his  educational  reforms  and 
to  his  pitiless  satires,  makes  his  well-known  Colloquies 
the  vehicle  for  denunciations  against  the  corruption  of 
the  Church,  and  shows  in  other  ways  that  he  regarded 
the  light  which  learning  could  throw  upon  religious  and 
Scriptural  studies,  as  of  far  more  importance  than  the 
elegancies  of  scholarship,  or  of  mere  literary  style. 

Indeed  there  was  a  fundamental  difference  between 
the  educational  theory  of  Erasmus  and  that  of  Ascham 
and  his  fast  friend  Sturm   of  Strasburg.     The  former 
sought  to  treat  Latin  as  a  living  language,  and. to  make  J 
his  scholars  speak  and  think   in   it.      But  Sturm  and-^- 
Ascham   regarded    it   of   chief    importance   to   aim   at 


Latin  the  language  of  tJic  Church  221 

elegance  in  the  choice  and  use  of  Latin  as  a  vehicle 
of  literary  expression.  And  while  Melancthon,  Luther, 
and  Sturm  in  Germany,  and  Erasmus,  Ascham,  Cheke, 
Colet,  and  Smith,  in  England,  were  in  very  different 
ways  urging  the  claims  of  Greek  and  Latin  scholarship 
either  as  instruments  of  general  cultivation  and  as  aids 
to  religious  reform,  the  Jesuits  resolved  to  fight  heresy 
with  the  same  weapons,  and  the  schools  which  they 
established  on  the  Continent  differed  mainly  from  others 
in  their  insistence  on  Latin  as  the  great  factor  in  educa- 
tion, to  the  practical  exclusion  of  Greek.  As  Mr  Charles 
Parker  says  in  the  Essays  on  a  Liberal  Education  :  — 

"They  (the  Jesuits)  knew  but  one  end,  the  interests  of  the 
Church;  one  sacred  text,  the  Vulgate;  one  Breviary,  the  Roman; 
one  will,  their  General's.  So  in  their  schools,  they  would  have  but 
one  spoken  language,  Latin;  one  style,  that  of  Cicero;  one  theology, 
that  of  Aquinas;  one  philosophy,  that  of  Aristotle,  read  in  Latin 
translations  and  interpreted  when  possible  by  Aquinas.  All  this 
was  matter  of  obedience.  Read,  write,  speak  L.atin,  was  one  rule. 
Imitate  Cicero,  was  another.  An  independent  style  might  foster 
independent  thought,  which  might  possibly  ripen  into  independent 
action.  Every  class  spoke  Latin,  every  class  read  Cicero  for  prose, 
and  Virgil  for  verse.  Three  classes  learned  grammar,  the  fourth 
humanity,  and  the  fifth  rhetoric.  The  study  of  Latin  was  mainly 
directed  to  the  formation  of  an  eloquent  style  to  be  used  in  the 
service  of  the  Church." 

It  must  be  added  that  the  rules  laid  down  by  the 
Jesuit  fathers  in  the  Ratio  Studiorum  contain  many  wise 
and  valuable  suggestions  about  methods  of  teaching,  and 
may  still  be  studied  with  advantage  by  those  who  desire 
to  make  Latin  an  effective  instrument  of  literary  culture. 
But  schools  of  this  type,  founded  by  the  zeal  of  the 
first  members  of  the  Society  of  Jesus,  after  the  establish- 
ment of  that  society  by  Loyola  in  1540,  were,  though 
common  in  Germanv  and  France,  unable  to  find  a  foot- 
ing in  England.     The  Reformation  and  the  revival  of 


222     Ascham  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

Greek  learning  combined  to  give  a  definite  and  peculiar 
local  character  to  the  educational  foundations  of  the 
sixteenth  century  in  England.  Winchester  and  Eton  had 
been  founded  by  William  of  Wykeham  and  by  Henry  VE 
respectively.  Both  were  ecclesiastical  foundations,  with 
provision  for  choristers  and  chaplains,  a  warden  and 
fellows  —  and  were  rather  designed  to  be  communities 
of  adult  and  youthful  scholars  than  schools  in  the  modern 
sense.  A  connexion  was  established  between  Eton  and 
King's  College,  Cambridge,  and  between  Winchester  and 
New  College,  Oxford.  Of  the  other  foundations  anterior 
to  the  sixteenth  century,  the  greater  part  were  attached 
to  cathedral  or  other  religious  foundations. 
Pre-Refir-  Mr  A.  T.  Leach  in  his  interesting  and  laborious 
vtation       researches    into   the   history   of    grammar    schools   has 

Grammar  J 

Schools.  shown  that  before  the  Reformation  there  were  many 
such  schools  connected  with  cathedrals,  chantries, 
monasteries,  hospitals,  and  guilds  of  various  kinds,1 
besides  a  few  founded  by  private  benevolence.  Under 
the  Protector  Somerset  many  of  these,  especially  those 
which  came  within  the  provisions  of  the  Chantries  Act, 
were  dissolved,  rather  on  religious  grounds,  because  in 
the  view  of  the  Parliament  of  Edward  VI.  superstitions 
and  errors  were  taught  in  them,  than  with  any  desire  to 
discourage  or  impoverish  general  education.  It  was  at 
least  the  ostensible  design  of  the  Edwardian  legislation 
to  promote  learning  rather  than  to  encourage  a  few  men 
to  spend  their  time  in  saying  masses  and  singing  psalms. 
A  Royal  Commission  was  formed  in  this  reign  to  secure 
the  continuance  of  ancient  grammar  schools  on  another 
footing,  but  it  is  clear  from  Mr  Leach's  investigations 
that  this  measure  was  not  always  effective,  and  that  in 
the  process  of  reconstruction  and  in  the  attempt  to  free 

1  Leach's  English  Schools  at  the  Reformation. 


Roger  A  sell  a  hi  223 


the  grammar  school  from  ecclesiastical  influence,  much 
valuable  property  was  lost  or  alienated  from  education, 
and  some  abuses  crept  in.  Latimer  loudly  complained 
that  the  Act  for  the  Continuing  or  Re-forming  of  the 
Grammar  Schools  had  not  been  properly  carried  into 
effect.  "But  now  many  grammar  schools  be  taken,  sold 
and  made  away  to  the  great  slander  of  you  and  youi 
laws,  to  the  grievous  offence  of  the  people,  to  the  most 
miserable  drowning  of  youth  in  ignorance,  and  to  the 
decay  of  the  Universities." 

Perhaps  the  best  and  most  characteristic  example  of  Roger 
the  new  influences  which  helped  to  shape  the  educational  5C ' 
ideals  of  the  sixteenth  century  is  Roger  Ascham,  a  scholar, 
a  man  of  affairs,  an  adherent  of  the  reformed  faith,  as 
well  as  a  tutor  and  lecturer.  He  was  born  in  Yorkshire 
in  the  year  1515.  He  came  of  an  ancient  and  substantial 
family,  entered  the  University  of  Cambridge  at  what  was 
then  the  not  unusual  age  of  fifteen,  and,  after  a  very 
honourable  academic  career,  was  admitted  to  a  fellowship 
at  St  John's  College.  He  became  a  college  lecturer, 
read  Greek  publicly  in  the  University,  and  was  chosen 
Public  Orator.  He  also  filled  the  office  of  instructor  in 
the  learned  languages  to  the  Princess  Elizabeth,  after- 
wards queen,  in  whose  favour  he  remained  until  his 
death  in  1568.  During  three  years,  from  1550  to  1553, 
he  served  as  secretary  to  Sir  Richard  Morysine  at  the 
court  of  the  Emperor  Charles  V.,  and  in  this  capacity 
acquired  the  experience  which  was  afterwards  recounted 
in  his  Report  and  Discourse  of  the  Affairs  and  State  of 
Germany.  In  his  absence  he  was  appointed  Latin 
Secretary  to  Edward  VI.  — an  office  which  he  continued 
to  hold  during  the  two  subsequent  reigns.  It  is  much 
to  the  credit  of  Mary  and  of  Bishop  Gardiner  and 
Cardinal  Pole  that  Ascham,  though  he  adhered  to  the 


224     Ascham  and  the  Sc /tools  of  the  Renaissance 

Reformed  faith,  retained  his  Latin  secretaryship  through 
her  reign. 

y/  Thus  his  life  presented  unusual  and  very  varied 
opportunities  of  acquiring  knowledge  respecting  the 
social  and  intellectual  movements  of  his  time.  That 
time  was,  both  in  the  political  and  the  religious  spheres, 
one  of  unusual  activity  and  unrest.  The  capture  of 
Constantinople  by  the  Turks  had  caused  the  dispersion 
of  many  scholars,  some  of  whom  fled  to  Italy,  and  be- 
came famous  teachers,  especially  of  the  Greek  language 
and  literature.  In  this  way  a  desire  for  learning  had 
spread  into  Europe,  and  some  of  the  more  eminent 
English  scholars  —  Sir  John  Cheke,  Grocyn,  Linacre, 
Sir  Thomas  Smith,  Latimer,  Warham,  and  Grindal, 
afterwards  Archbishop  of  Canterbury,  Dean  Colet,  the 
founder  of  St  Paul's  School,  and  Lyly  its  first  head- 
master, Sir  Thomas  More,  and  Erasmus  —  became  the 
pioneers  of  the  revival  of  classical  learning  in  England. 
With  nearly  all  of  these  Ascham  was  intimate.  They 
had,  like  himself,  visited  Italy,  and  studied  Greek  under 
professors  there.  But  it  is  remarkable,  and  not  wholly 
accidental,  that  the  Renaissance  was  coincident  with  the 
Reformation,  and  that  the  group  of  scholars  and  thinkers 
with  whom  Ascham  was  associated  were  all  greatly 
influenced  by  the  teaching  of  Luther,  and  by  his  de- 
nunciations of  the  negligence  and  corruption  into  which 
the  Roman  Church  of  that  day  had  fallen.  The  dis- 
solution of  monasteries,  and  the  introduction  of  Greek 
teaching  in  the  English  Universities,  were  parts  of  the 
same  movement  which  made  the  sixteenth  century  so 
memorable  for  the  emancipation  of  the  intellect  of 
Europe  and  for  the  beginnings  of  English  literature. 
The  love  of  learning,  and  freedom  of  thought  in  religion, 
were  naturally  akin. 


The  Scholcmaster  225 

\ 

The  book  which  gives  Ascham  his  chief  title  to  a  Tne 
place    in   the  history  of  Education  was  written  later,  SlIlol''~ 

1  J  '  master. 

and  was  not  published  till  after  his  death.  It  is  called 
the  "Scholemaster;  Or,  A  Plain  and  Perfect  Way  of 
Teaching  Children  to  Understand,  Write,  and  Speak  the 
Latin  Tongue."  The  ends  to  which  his  suggestions  were 
directed  extended  far  beyond  the  limits  of  the  mere  ac- 
quirement of  a  language.  "  In  writing  this  book, "  he  says, 
"I  have  had  earnest  respect  to  three  special  points:  truth 
of  religion,  honesty  in  living,  and  right  order  in  learning." 
The  moral  aim  of  all  intellectual  discipline  is  conspicuous  )0 
throughout  his  pedagogic  treatise  The  character  he 
wants  to  form  is  that  of  one  "grave,  stedfast,  silent  of 
tongue,  secret  of  heart,  not  hasty  in  making,  but  constant 
in  keeping,  any  promise;  not  rash  in  uttering,  but  wary 
in  considering  every  matter,  and  thereby  not  quick  in 
speaking,  but  deep  of  judgment,  whether  they  write  or 

give  counsel  in  all  weighty  affairs His  wit  should  be 

quick  without  lightness,  sharp  without  brittleness,  desirous 
of  good  things  without  new  fangleness,  diligent  in  painful 
things  without  wearisomeness,  and  constant  in  good-will 
to  do  all  things  well."  In  reference  to  school  discipline, 
Ascham 's  book  is  an  earnest  vindication  of  the  need  of 
gentleness  and  sympathy  in  dealing  with  children,  and 
a  strong  protest  against  the  cruelties  often  practised  by 
pedagogues  of  the  type  of  Nicholas  Udal,  the  head- 
master of  Eton,  whose  pitiless  flogging  was  a  scandal 
even  in  that  age.  A  school,  Ascham  thought,  should 
be,  as  its  name  implies,  Ludus  litterarum,  —  the  house 
of  play  and  pleasure,  not  of  fear  and  bondage.  "  Love 
is  better  than  fear,  gentleness  better  than  beating,  to 
bring  up  a  child  rightly  in  learning." 

The  admirable  description  and  analysis  of  Ascham's 
method  of  teaching  which  is  to  be  found  in  Mr  Quick's 
Q 


226     Asdiam  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

Educational  Reformers  makes  it  unnecessary  for  me  to 

enter   into   any    detailed   criticism   of    the    pedagogical 

teaching  of  the  "Scholemaster."    Ascham's  discussion  of 

the  several  valuesof  imitation,  paraphrase,  and  translation, 

enters  into  much  detail.    Language  was,  in  his  view,  the 

one  staple  element  in  all  education,  because  it  was  helpful 

to  many  other  objects  than  itself,  and  had  relation  to  all 

reading,  to  all  acquirement,  and  to  all  the  experience  of 

life.     Other  studies,  he  thought,  might  in  their  way  be 

useful,  but  with  some  reserve.     "Some  wits,  moderate 

enough  by  nature,  be  many  times  marred  by  overmuch 

studyanduseof  somesciences;  namely,  music,  arithmetic, 

and  geometry.     These  sciences,  as  they  sharpen  men's 

wits  overmuch,  so  they  change  men's  manners  over  soon, 

if  they  be  not  moderately  mingled  and  wisely  applied  to 

some  good  use  of  life.     Mark  all  mathematical  heads 

which  be  only  and  wholly  bent  to  those  sciences,  how 

solitary  they  be  themselves,  how  unfit  to  live  with  others, 

and  how  unapt  to  serve  in  the  world !  " 

Ascham  Apart  from  the  main   purpose  of    the  book,   some 

and  his      curious  flashes  of  light  are  shed  by  it  upon  the  social 

royal 

pupils.       and  religious  life  of  the  period.    One  of  these  comes  from 

the  charming  picture  of  Ascham's  interview  with  Lady 

Jane  Grey,  whom  he  found  once  at  her  father's  house  at 

Bradgate,  in  Leicestershire,  reading  the  Phcedo  of  Plato 

in  Greek,  while  all  the  rest  of  the  courtly  company  were 

hunting  in  the  park.     On  asking  her  why  she  denied 

herself  a  share  in  the  pastime,  the  young  lady  spoke 

earnestly  of  the  pleasure  she  derived  from  her  Greek 

studies,  and  added,  "  My  book  hath  been  so  much  my 

pleasure,  and  bringeth  me  daily  more  pleasure  and  more, 

that  in  respect  of  it  all  other  pleasures  in  very  deed  be 

but  trifles  and  troubles  unto  me."     And  the  panegyric 

on  his  own  pupil,  Queen  Elizabeth,  though  not  free  from 


i 


Ascham's  experience  in  Italy  227 

the  exaggeration  of  a  courtier,  is  interesting  as  a  proof 
that  the  ladiesof  the  sixteenth  century  were  not  indifferent 
to  the  higher  learning:  "It  is  to  your  shame,  you  young 
gentlemen  of  England,"  said  Ascham,  "that  one  maid 
should  go  beyond  you  all  in  excellency  of  learning  and 
knowledge  of  divers  tongues.  Point  forth  six  of  the  best 
given  gentlemen  of  this  court,  and  all  they  together  shew 
not  so  much  good  will,  spend  not  so  much  time,  bestow 
not  so  many  hours  daily,  orderly,  and  constantly,  for  the 
increase  of  learning  and  knowledge  as  doth  the  Queen's 
Majesty  herself." 

A  pleasant  light  is  thrown  upon  the  manners  of  the 
time  by  the  story  of  the  old  tutor's  regular  visits  to  the 
Queen,  that  they  might  read  Latin  and  Greek  books 
together,  and  diversify  their  exercises  by  games  of  chess 
and  draughts. 

It  was  with  less  satisfaction  that  the  serious  and  His  expe- 
scholarly  Ascham  recounted  other  incidents  which  accom-  j£j* 
panied  the  revival  of  learning.  Italy  had  become  the 
resort  of  scholars,  and  the  chief  channel  through  which 
Greek  erudition  found  it  way  to  Western  Europe.  But 
it  had  also  become  the  favourite  haunt  of  pleasure-loving 
young  noblemen  and  gentlemen  from  England,  and  the 
state  of  society  and  of  morals  in  that  country  filled  him 
with  anxiety.  He  once  spent  nine  days  in  Venice,  and 
in  that  little  time  he  saw  in  that  one  city  "more  liberty 
to  sin  than  ever  I  heard  tell  of  in  our  noble  city  of 
London  in  nine  years."  "Time  was  when  Italy  and 
Rome  have  been  to  the  great  good  of  us  that  now  live, 
the  best  bree^fers  and  bringers  up  of  the  worthiest  men, 
not  only  for  wise  speaking,  but  also  for  well  doing  in  all 
civil  affairs  that  ever  was  in  the  world.  But  now  that 
time  is  gone,  and,  though  the  place  remain,  yet  the  old 
and  present  manners  do  differ  as  far  as  black  and  white, 


rience  in, 


228     AscJiam  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

as  virtue  and  vice."  He  thought  that  the  atheism, 
idleness,  and  extravagance  of  Italy  at  that  period  in  our 
history  were  of  evil  example  to  rich  young  men  coming 
from  England,  and  were  exercising  an  unwholesome 
influence  on  our  social  life  at  home;  and  he  denounced 
some  of  the  new  fashions  with  vigour,  and  with  a  grave 
sadness  which  had  no  puritanical  rigour  in  it.  "These 
be  the  enchantments  of  Circe  brought  out  of  Italy  to 
mar  men's  manners  in  England." 
His  other  Of  his  other  writings,  the  best  known  were  a  trans- 

in£s'  lation  from  a  commentary  on  some  of  the  New  Testament 
epistles,  and  his  own  Latin  letters,  of  which  Fuller,  in 
his  "Worthies,"  says  that  they  were  the  "only  Latin 
letters  extant  of  any  Englishman,  —  the  more  the  pity." 
These  letters  furnish  the  history  of  the  difficulties  and 
anxieties  of  the  scholar's  life,  his  serious  illnesses  which 
twice  sorely  interrupted  the  course  of  his  academic  duties, 
and  the  encouragement  he  gave  to  his  royal  pupil  to 
pursue  with  avidity  her  liberal  studies. 

His  place  in  the  history  of  education  is  that  of  one 
who  regarded  with  sympathy  the  older  classical  discipline, 
as  well  as  the  new  revival  of  interest  in  Greek,  but  who 
looked  with  fresh  eyes  upon  the  traditional  methods  of 
teaching,  and  suggested  some  rational  and  practical  im- 
provements. He  was  a  "humanist  "  of  the  same  type  as 
Milton,  who  thought  it  the  first  business  of  teaching  to 
make  a  man  an  accomplished  and  thoughtful  gentleman, 
high-minded,  courageous,  and  industrious  in  the  pursuit 
of  truth,  and  who  considered  that  the  study  of  language, 
logic,  rhetoric,  and  the  related  sciences,  were  the  best 
^^instruments  for  the  attainment  of  this  end. 
/r^  It  was  to  the  influence  of  such  men  as  Ascham  and 
his  friends  —  scholars  and  statesmen,  who  were  deeply 
penetrated  with  the  reforming  spirit  in  religion,  and  who 


St  Paul's  School  229 


cared  for  the  promotion  of  learning  for  its  own  sake,  and 
not  as  a  means  of  promoting  the  interests  of  the  Church, 
—  that  we  owe  the  regenerate  educational  foundations  of 
the  sixteenth  century. 

Of  these,  Dean  Colet's  great  school  of  St  Paul's  St  Paul's 
(15 10)  was  almost  the  first  which  distinctly  aimed  ax^^ool. 
a  high  secular  education,  and  deliberately  disavowed  any 
special  ecclesiastical  purpose.  Though  the  founder  was 
Dean  of  St  Paul's,  he  gave  in  his  statutes  no  share  of  the 
government  to  his  successors  in  the  Chapter,  but  confided 
the  whole  future  administration  to  a  trading  guild,  to  the 
Company  of  Mercers,  who  have  since  honourably  fulfilled 
for  nearly  four  centuries  the  duty  he  assigned  to  them. 
His  scholars  —  who  were  for  ever  to  number  exactly  153, 
in  commemoration  of  the  number  of  fishes  in  the  net  of 
the  Apostles  —  were  to  be  drawn  from  all  nations  and 
countries,  and  to  be  instructed  freely  in  the  ancient 
tongues.  Scholastic  Latin  was  strictly  excluded  by  the 
statutes,  but  Christian  writers  were  admissible,  if  in  good 
Latin.  The  High  Master  was  to  be  "  learned  in  good 
and  clean  Latin  literature,  and  also  in  Greek,  if  such  may 
be  gotten."  This  conditional  regulation  significantly 
reminds  us  that  at  that  date  the  Greek  revival  had  made 
but  little  effective  way. 

By  the  end  of  the  century,  founders  such  as  Laurence  Examples 
Sherriff  at  Rugby,  and  John  Lyon  of  Harrow,  felt  freer  0fe%*uflV 
to  insist  on  Greek  as  a  necessary  element  of  their  course,  founda- 
Hesiod,  however,  being  the  only  Greek  poet  named  \xvllons- 
the  Harrow  statutes. 

The  founder  of  Chester  Grammar  School,  1558,  en-  Chester. 
joins: — 

"  I  will  there  were  always  taught  good  literature,  both  Latin  and 
Greek,  and  good  authors,  such  as  have  the  Roman  eloquence  joined 
with  wisdom,  especially  Christian  authors,  that  wrote  their  wisdom 


230     Aschani  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

with  clean  and  chaste  Latin,  either  in  prose  or  verse — for  mine  intent 
is  by  founding  this  school  specially  to  increase  knowledge  and 
worshipping  of  God,  and  good  Christian  life  and  manners  in  the 
children,"  and  then  he  enumerates  the  "  Colloquies  "  and  "  Insti- 
tutes "  of  Erasmus,  Ovid,  Cicero,  Terence,  Horace,  and  Virgil,  and 
"true  Latin  speech  —  all  Barbaric,  all  corruption  and  filthiness,  and 
such  abuses  as  the  blind  world  brought  in,  to  be  entirely  banished 
and  excluded,  so  that  the  master  shall  only  teach  what  is  best,  and 
such  authors  as  have  with  wisdom  joined  the  pure  eloquence." 

Manches-         So  the  Indenture  of   Feoffment  of  the  Manchester 
ter'  Grammar  School  sets  forth  that  — 

"  the  liberal  science  or  art  of  Grammar  is  the  ground  and  fountain  of 
all  the  other  liberal  arts  or  sciences,  which  source  and  spring  out  of 
the  same;  without  which  science,  the  others  cannot  perfectly  be  had, 
for  Science  of  Grammar  is  the  Gate  by  the  which  all  other  hath 
been  learned  and  known."  And  further  the  deed  complains  "  that 
the  teaching  of  children  in  school  had  not  been  practised  in  that 
time  for  want  of  a  sufficient  schoolmaster  or  usher,  so  that  the  chil- 
dren having  pregnant  wits,  have  been  for  the  most  part  brought  up 
rudely  and  idly,  and  not  in  virtue,  cunning,  erudition,  literature,  and 
good  manners." 

Louth.  The  preamble  of   the  Charter   of   Edward  VI.,   in 

founding  a  grammar  school  at  Louth  —  a  school  which 
in  later  times  has  had  the  distinction  of  producing  the 
poet  Tennyson  —  sets  forth  the  conception  of  a  grammar 
school  with  more  of  breadth  and  liberality  than  was 
generally  expressed,  however  distinctly  intended,  by  many 
private  founders.  It  is  probable  that  the  views  of  the 
Protector  Somerset  are  traceable  in  the  words:  — 

"  Whereas  we  have  always  coveted,  with  a  most  exceeding 
vehement  and  ardent  desire,  that  good  literature  and  discipline 
might  be  diffused  and  propagated  through  all  the  parts  of  our  King- 
dom, as  wherein  the  best  government  and  administration  of  affairs 
consists,  and  therefore  with  no  small  earnestness  have  we  been 
intent  on  the  liberal  institution  of  youth,  that  it  may  be  brought  up 
to  science  in  places  of  our  Kingdom  most  proper  and  suitable  for 
such  functions,  it  being  as  it  were  the  foundation  and  growth  of  our 
Commonwealth,  and  having  certain  and  unquestionable  knowledge 


Choice  of  Masters  231 


that  our  town  of  Louth  is  a  place  most  fit  and  proper  for  such 
teaching  and  instructing,  and  is  very  populous,  and  well  stocked 
with  youth." 

And  then  follow  the  usual  regulations  about  Latin,  Greek, 
grammatical  science,  and  godly  learning  generally. 

Fifty-one  such  foundations,  including  Sedbergh,  Bir 
mingham,  Tonbridge,  Christ's  Hospital,  and  Shrewsbury. 
owe  their  origin  to  the  six  years  of  Edward  VI.  Twenty 
more  were  established  during  the  reign  of  Philip  and 
Mary,  and  no  less  than  136  others,  including  West- 
minster, Merchant  Taylors',  Bedford,  Bristol,  Colchester, 
Wakefield,  and  Aldenham  in  the  reign  of  Elizabeth. 

With  what  seriousness  of  purpose  the  early  reformers  Choice  of 
of  learning  set  about  their  task  may  be  judged  from  Masters' 
the  efforts  made  by  Dean  Colet  to  obtain  masters  well 
equipped  with  the  necessary  knowledge  and  teaching 
power.  He  had  before  founding  St  Paul's  made  choice, 
for  the  first  High  Master,  of  John  Lyly,  the  friend  and 
fellow-student  of  More,  who  had  mastered  the  Latin 
language  in  Italy,  and  even  travelled  farther  East,  and 
lived  in  the  island  of  Rhodes,  to  perfect  his  knowledge 
of  Greek.  He  had  at  one  time  very  nearly  accepted  the 
vows  of  a  Carthusian  monk;  he  was,  however,  thoroughly 
imbued  with  the  pedagogic  spirit,  and  was,  in  the  opinion 
of  Erasmus,  a  "  thorough  master  in  the  art  of  educating 
youth."  "I  have  often  longed,"  said  Colet,  in  a  letter 
to  Erasmus,  "that  the  boys  of  my  school  should  be 
educated  in  the  way  in  which  you  say  that  they  should  be 
taught,"  and  having  found  Lyly  to  possess  needful  quali- 
fications, he  made,  by  his  statutes,  provision  for  What  in 
those  days  was  a  very  handsome  stipend,  in  order  to 
show  his  sense  of  the  dignity  of  the  office. 

"  But   an   under-master   was   not   so   easy  to  find.     Colet   had 
written  to  Erasmus  in  September,  15 1 1,  wishing  him  to  look  one  out 


232     Aschavi  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

for  him.  Erasmus  wrote  in  October,  and  informed  him  that  he  had 
mentioned  his  want  to  some  of  the  college  dons.  One  of  them  had 
replied  by  sneeringly  asking :  '  Who  would  put  up  with  the  life  of 
a  schoolmaster  who  could  get  a  living  in  any  other  way  ? '  Where- 
upon Erasmus  modestly  urged  that  he  thought  the  education  of 
youth  was  the  most  honourable  of  all  callings,  and  that  there  could 
be  no  labour  more  pleasing  to  God  than  the  Christian  training  of 
boys.  At  which  the  Cambridge  doctor  turned  up  his  nose  in  con- 
tempt, and  scornfully  replied  :  '  If  any  one  wants  to  give  himself  up 
entirely  to  the  service  of  Christ,  let  him  enter  a  monastery.'  " 

"  Erasmus  ventured  to  question  whether  St  Paul  did  not  place 
true  religion  rather  in  works  of  charity  —  in  doing  as  much  good  as 
possible  to  our  neighbours  ?  The  other  rejected  altogether  so  crude 
a  notion, '  Behold,'  said  he, '  we  must  leave  all ;  in  that  is  perfection.' 
'  He  scarcely  can  be  said  to  leave  all,'  promptly  returned  Erasmus, 
'  who,  when  he  has  a  chance  of  doing  good  to  others,  refuses  the  task 
because  it  is  too  humble  in  the  eyes  of  the  world.'  '  And  then,'  wrote 
Erasmus,  'lest  I  should  get  into  a  quarrel,  I  bade  the  man  good-bye.'  'n 

In  nearly  all  the  instruments  of  foundation  great 
stress  is  laid  upon  the  qualifications  of  the  master; 
he  is  always  to  be  a  grave  and  godly  man,  and  of  good 
repute.  Archbishop  Harsnet,  in  founding  Chigwell, 
specially  records  his  wish  that  the  headmaster  "  shall 
be  a  graduate  of  one  of  the  Universities,  not  under 
twenty-seven  years  of  age,  skilful  in  the  Greek  and 
Latin  tongues,  a  good  poet,  of  a  sound  religion,  neither 
Papist  nor  Puritan,  of  a  grave  behaviour,  of  a  sober  and 
honest  conversation,  no  tippler  nor  haunter  of  ale-houses, 
no  puffer  of  tobacco,  and,  above  all,  one  apt  to  teach, 
and  severe  in  his  government." 
The  scheme  It  will  be  observed  that  in  all  the  statutes  and  testa- 
cy sindy.  mentsof  this  century  the  Greek  and  Latin  languages  are 
spoken  of  as  the  staple  of  the  instruction  to  be  given 
in  grammar  schools.  Yet  there  was  no  theory  about  the 
disciplinal  value  of  linguistic  studies,  no  conscious  selec- 

1  Seebohm,  The  Oxford  I\eformers. 


The  Grammar  School  Curriculum  233 

tion  and  preference  for  such  studies,  after  weighing  the 
claims  of  physics  or  mathematics  or  modern  literature. 
These  languages  were  to  be  taught  because  they  were 
the  key  and  passport  to  all  the  learning  which  was  then 
extant,  because  they  formed  the  only  kind  of  study  which 
had  then  been  formulated  and  made  definite.  The  Tri- 
vium  —  Grammar,  Dialectics,  Rhetoric,  and  the  Quadri- 
vium  —  Music,  Arithmetic,  Geometry  and  Astronomy, 
besides  philosophy,  ethics,  history,  might  all  in  their  way 
be  useful  parts  of  a  gentleman's  education;  but  no  one 
of  them  could  be  learned  at  all  except  in  the  languages 
of  Greece  and  Rome.  Nor  was  the  moral  training  to  be 
dissociated  in  any  way  from  the  educational  system.  A 
serious  religious  purpose  is  frequently  visible  in  the 
ordinances  of  the  founders;  grammar,  good  manners, 
virtue,  religion,  and  purity  of  life  are  constantly  enume- 
rated together,  not  as  things  to  be  taught  independently 
by  catechisms  or  creeds,  but  as  objects  to  be  obtained 
in  and  through  the  diligent  study  of  language  and  the 
reading  of  the  best  ancient  authors. 

When  the  founders  and  framers  of  statutes  descended  Details  of 
to  particulars,   thev  often  displayed  a  curious  lack  ollieS'a",'~ , 

1  '  J  '      J  mar  school 

imagination  and  forethought,  and  insisted  on  details  of  curricu- 
instruction  which  appeared  to  them  at  the  moment  the  "' 
most  in  vogue,  as  if  they  were  to  become  perpetual  and 
were  incapable  of  improvement.  The  subjects  of  instruc- 
tion, and  even  the  books  to  be  used,  are  often  prescribed 
with  great  minuteness.  For  example  the  Ordinances  of 
St  Bees  (1583)  enjoin 

"  the  master  to  make  his  scholars  perfect  in  the  Latin  and  Greek 
grammar —  using  the  Queen's  grammar  and  accidence,  as  set  forth  by 
authority — Esop's  Fables,  then  certain  books  of  Cicero,  then  Sallust 
and  Caesar,  and  afterwards  Virgil,  Horace,  Ovid,  and  the  poets,  and 
the  Greek  Grammar  of  Cleonard." 


234     Ascham  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

At  Bruton  all  scholars  were  to  be  taught  "gram- 
mar, after  the  form  of  Magdalen  College,  Oxford,  or 
St  Paul's,  London,  and  not  songs  or  polite  learning, 
nor  English  reading;  but  to  be  made  perfect  Latin 
men." 

At  East  Retford  ( 1 5  5 1 )  the  Statutes  framed  by  an 
Archbishop  of  York  enter  fully  into  detail,  and  specify 
not  only  the  books,  but  also  the  exact  amount  and 
order  of  the  classical  work  for  each  form  and  class  in 
the  school. 

"  The  said  Schoolmaster  and  Usher,  or  one  of  them  to  every  Form 
of  scholars,  within  the  said  Grammar  School,  shall  teach  these  books 
and  authors  in  order  hereafter  following,  that  is  to  say,  unto  their 
scholars  of  the  First  Form  within  the  said  Grammar  School  the  figures 
and  characters  of  letters,  to  join,  write,  sound,  and  pronounce  the 
same  plainly  and  perfectly.  And  immediately  to  learn  the  inflection 
of  nouns  and  verbs,  which,  if  it  be  done  with  diligence,  a  good  and 
apt  nature  in  one  year  may  attain  a  perfect  reading,  pronouncing, 
and  declining  of  nouns  and  verbs;  and  the  more  prone  natures  may 
spare  some  part  of  the  first  year  to  hear  the  explication  of  Tully's 
Epistles,  and  write  and  repeat  certain  Latin  words  out  of  them. 
Item,  in  the  Second  Yorm,  after  usual  repetition  of  the  inflection  of 
nouns  and  verbs,  which  is  attained  in  the  First  Form,  a  more  full 
explication  of  the  Syntaxis  of  Construction  must  be  shewed,  and 
the  other  hours  of  reading  may  be  spent  in  the  Colloquia  Erasmi, 
and  some  harder  Epistles  of  Tully,  which  must  be  dissolved  and 
discussed  verbatim,  and  the  reason  of  every  construction  shewed. 
This  Form  is  required  to  turn  sentences  from  English  to  Latin. 
And  further  we  ordain,  that  in  this  Form  be  taught  the  Scriptures, 
both  the  Old  and  New  Testaments,  Sallust,  and  Justinian's  Institutes, 
if  the  Schoolmaster  and  Usher  be  seen  in  the  same.  Item,  the 
said  Schoolmaster  or  Usher  shall  read  and  teach  unto  the  Third 
Form  of  scholars  within  the  said  Grammar  School,  the  King's 
Majesty's  Latin  Grammar,  Virgil,  Ovid,  and  Tully's  Epistles,  Copia 
Erasmi  verborum  et  rerum,  or  so  many  of  the  said  authors  as  the 
said  schoolmaster  shall  think  convenient  for  the  capacity  and  profit 
of  his  scholars,  and  every  day  to  give  unto  his  said  scholars  one 
English  to   be  made  into  Latin.     Item,  the  said  Schoolmaster  or 


Disputations  235 

Usher  shall  teach  to  the  Fourth  Form  of  scholars  within  the  said 
Grammar  School  to  know  the  breves  and  longs,  and  make  verses, 
and  they  of  this  Form  shall  write  every  week  some  epistle  in  Latin, 
and  give  it  to  the  said  Master  or  Usher  at  the  end  of  the  week. 
And  also  the  said  Master  shall  teach  the  scholars  of  this  Form  the 
Greek  Grammar,  and  also  the  Hebrew  Grammar,  if  he  be  expert  in 
the  same,  and  some  Greek  authors,  so  far  as  his  learning  and  con- 
venient time  will  serve  thereunto." 

Disputations,  or  public  exercises  or  appositions,  were  Disputa- 
a  favourite  form  of  intellectual  exercise,  and  were  often tlons- 
insisted  on  in  deeds  or  statutes :  e.g.,  Sir  Roger  Manwood 
(1580),  in  his  regulations  for  the  Sandwich   Grammar 
School,  ordains  that 

"there  shall  annually  be  kept  in  the  school  disputations  from  7 
to  9  in  the  forenoon,  and  the  Master  shall  desire  the  Parsons  and 
Vicars  of  the  town,  with  one  or  two  others  of  knowledge,  to  be 
present,  if  it  please  them,  to  hear  the  same.  The  disputation 
being  ended,  to  determine  which  three  of  the  whole  number  of 
forms  have  done  best  by  the  judgments  of  the  Master  and  learned 
hearers." 

Then  he  makes  further  provision  for  prizes  of  silver  pens 
to  the  best  debaters,  and  wills 

"  that  the  whole  company  go  in  order  decently  by  two  and  two 
to  the  parish  Church,  the  three  victors  to  come  last,  next  to  the 
Master  and  Usher,  each  of  them  having  a  garland  on  his  head,  and 
then  in  the  Church  to  kneel  or  stand,  and  to  say  or  sing  some  con- 
venient Psalm  or  Hymne,  with  a  Collect  making  mention  of  the 
Church,  the  realm,  the  prince,  the  town,  and  the  founder." 

The  ordinances  of  St  Bees  prescribe  that  every  week 
two  shall  be  appointed  to  declaim  upon  some  theme  an 
hour  before  dinner,  and  afterwards  exhibit  verses  upon 
the  same  theme  to  the  Master. 

There  were  also  in  many  schools  contentions  as  to 
the  principles  of  grammar  capping  or  "potting  verses." 


236     Ascham  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

Strype,  in  his  edition  of  Stow's  Survey  of  London,  says, 
speaking  of  Merchant  Taylors'  School :  — 

"  I  myself  have  yearly  seen  the  scholars  of  divers  Grammar 
Schools  repair  unto  the  churchyard  of  St  Bartholomew  the  Priory  in 
Smithfield,  where  upon  a  bank  boarded  about  under  a  tree,  some 
one  scholar  hath  stepped  up  and  there  hath  opposed  and  answered 
till  he  were  by  some  better  scholar  overcome  and  put  down;  and 
then  the  overcomer  taking  the  place  did  like  as  the  first,  and  in  the 
end  the  best  opposers  and  answerers  had  rewards.  It  made  both 
good  schoolmasters  and  also  good  scholars  diligently  to  prepare 
themselves  for  the  obtaining  of  such  reward." 

Hours  of  It  is  very  characteristic  of  the  strenuous  character  of 
study  and  t{ie  discipline  enjoined  in  the  ancient  grammar  schools, 
{ng  and  of  the  high  —  not  to  say  severe  —  standard  of  duty 

and  of  work  set  up  before  the  scholars,  that  the  hours  of 
study,  and  the  days  of  relaxation,  are  often  regulated  in 
a  rigid  fashion  which  would  be  thought  intolerable  by 
the  schoolmasters  and  pupils  of  later  and  more  soft 
and  self-indulgent  times.  The  father  of  Francis  Bacon 
(Sir  Nicholas,  the  Lord  Keeper  in  1570)  drew  up  the 
statutes  of  St  Alban's  School,  in  which  inter  alia  it  is 
prescribed :  — 

"The  Schoolmaster  shall  every  learning  day  from  the  25th  of  . 
March  unto  the  30th  of  September  be  at  the  school  by  the  stroke 
of  6  of  the  clock  in  the  morning,  and  from  September  30th  to  March 
25th  by  7,  and  continue  in  teaching  until  II  of  the  clock,  and  shall 
be  at  the  school  again  by  1  of  the  clock  in  the  afternoon,  and  shall 
abide  there  until  5  of  the  clock  teaching." 

Sir  Thomas  Fanshaw's  statutes  for  Dronfield,  in 
Derbyshire,  contain  a  like  limitation  as  to  the  lawful 
holidays:  — 

"I  strictly  inhibit  the  Schoolmaster  and  Usher,  upon  penalty  of 
loss  of  their  places,  that  they  grant  no  otium  or  play  days  to  their 
scholars  upon  any  pretext,  but  I  appoint  that  the  scholars  do  every 


Vacations  237 

Thursday  and  Saturday,  at  3  o'clock  in  the  afternoon,  play  of  course. 
And  that  there  be  no  breaking  up  nor  leaving  of  school,  save  only 
two  days  before  the  feast  of  Easter,  two  days  before  the  feast  of 
Tentecost,  and  four  or  five  days  before  Christmas,  and  the  school  to 
begin  again  upon  the  Wednesday  in  Easter  week,  the  Wednesday 
in  the  feast  of  Pentecost,  and  the  first  Monday  after  the  twelfth 
day  in  Christmas,  without  delay." 

The  long  summer  vacation,  so  dear  to  the  modern  Vacations. 
schoolmaster,  was  unknown  in  the  Elizabethan  times, 
and  if  known  would  have  been  sternly  denounced  as 
effeminate   and  unreasonable.     The  Sandwich  statutes 
ordain  — 

"That  neither  the  master  nor  usher,  without  license  of  the 
governors  shall  absent  himself  above  twenty  days  in  the  year  from 
the  school,  nor  so  much  but  upon  good  and  urgent  cause,  and  in 
that  vacant  time  the  one  to  supply  the  other's  office  upon  some  good 
convenient  allowance  as  they  can  agree,  so  as  both  at  once  may  not 
in  any  wise  be  absent  from  the  said  school." 

Indeed,  holidays  in  any  form  are  allowed  as  a  rather 
grudging  concession  to  human  weakness,  and  when 
allowed  are  rather  for  the  teachers  than  for  the  boys. 
Sir  John  Deane  (1558),  in  the  statutes  for  Wilton  School 
(Cheshire),  which  he  founded,  is  considerate  enough  to 
say:  — 

"  Because  nothing  that  is  perpetual  is  pleasant,  I  will  that  the 
schoolmaster  shall  have  liberty  once  in  every  year  thirty  days  to 
be  altogether  absent  to  recreate  himself  —  he  always  providing  that 
his  scholars  lose  no  time  in  his  absence,  but  they  be  occupied  in 
their  books  till  his  return." 

It  need  hardly  be  said  that  the  rod  was  an  essential  Punisk- 
part  of   the  school  apparatus.     The  corporate  seals  of  "!ents- 
some  endowed  schools,  e.g.  of  Uppingham  (1584)  and 
Louth  (1552),  represent  the  master  with  a  rod  in  his 
hand.     But  the  Chigwell  ordinances,  which,  as  I  have 


238     Ascham  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

before  said,  were  made  by  an  Archbishop,  and  were 
of  a  later  date,  were  humaner  in  their  protest  against 
severity. 

"  We  constitute  and  ordain  that  the  schoolmasters  do  not  exceed 
in  their  corrections  above  the  number  of  three  stripes  with  the  rod  at 
any  one  time ;  that  they  strike  not  any  scholar  upon  the  head  or  the 
cheek  with  their  fist  or  the  palms  of  their  hands  upon  pain  or  loss 
of  forty  shillings,  to  be  defaulted  by  the  governors  out  of  their  yearly 
wages;  that  they  do  not  curse  nor  revile  their  scholars;  that  for 
speaking  English  in  the  Latin  school,  the  scholar  be  corrected  with 
the  ferula,  and  for  swearing  with  the  rod;  that  monitors  be  appointed 
to  note  and  present  their  rudeness,  irreverent  and  indecent  de- 
meanour in  the  streets,  in  the  church,  or  their  public  sports." 

Herein  we  recognize  one  of  the  cardinal  faults  of  the 
grammar  school  system,  or  at  least  one  of  the  serious 
limitations  to  its  usefulness.  Except  in  Ascham's  writings 
and  in  those  of  Mulcaster,  who  was  (1561)  the  first  head- 
master of  Merchant  Taylors'  School,  one  finds  little  or  no 
recognition  of  the  importance  of  a  good  method  of  teach- 
ing. Certainly,  there  is  no  evidence  that  anybody  thought 
it  necessary  to  facilitate  the  early  efforts  of  a  schoolboy, 
or  to  make  learning  interesting  or  pleasant  to  him. 
Ascham  indeed  was  a  signal  exception  to  this  general 
rule.  So  much  of  the  old  spirit  of  monastic  austerity 
—  a  spirit  which  measured  the  value  of  all  discipline  by 
its  hardness  and  painfulness  —  survived  in  the  schools, 
that  one  of  the  merits  often  claimed  for  classical 
teaching  was  the  difficulty  it  presented  to  the  learners. 
Many  of  the  pedagogues  of  those  centuries,  down  to 
Ichabod  Crane,  the  switch  of  whose  rod  Washington 
Irving  heard  through  the  woods  of  Sleepy  Hollow,  as 
the  "  schoolmaster  urged  tardy  loiterers  over  the  flowery 
paths  of  learning,"  seem  never  to  have  been  quite  sure 
that  they  were  doing  justice  to  their  scholars  unless  the 
lessons  were  made  repulsive  and  distasteful.     The  belief 


Payment  of  Fees  239 

that  the  real  difficulties  of  life  are  grave  enough  without 
burdening  it  with  artificial  difficulties,  that  time  and 
labour  might  easily  be  economized  by  securing  the  willing 
co-operation  of  the  student,  and  by  adopting  methods 
which  should  be  pleasant  as  well  as  rational,  has  to  some 
extent,  but  alas!  not  yet  to  the  full  extent,  been  at  last 
recognized  by  modern  teachers.  But  until  this  belief 
became  prevalent,  one  could  hardly  expect  that  the  tra- 
ditional gerund-grinding  and  memory  work  would  be 
greatly  improved. 

But,  after  all,  the  characteristic  note  of  the  schools  Payment 
of  the  Renaissance  was  the  generous  desire  of  the  °ffees- 
founders  to  make  learning  accessible  to  all  scholars  who 
could  receive  and  make  a  right  use  of  it,  whether  they 
were  poor  or  rich.  Most  of  the  statutes  are  very  impera- 
tive on  this  point.  There  is  often  a  positive  prohibition 
against  the  exaction  of  fees  in  any  form.  Sometimes  a 
special  fee  or  gratuity  —  the  cockpenny  or  an  Easter  gift 
—  is  recognized  as  legitimate;  and  sometimes  learning 
other  than  Latin  and  Greek  —  e.g.,  even  reading  and 
arithmetic  —  are  permitted  to  count  as  extras,  and  to  be 
paid  for.  But,  as  a  rule,  free  grammar  schools  —  although 
technically  the  word  "free"  does  not  exactly  mean 
gratuitous,  but  often  simply  signifies  exemption  from 
ecclesiastical  control — -were  understood  to  be  places  in 
which  every  scholar  could  claim  admission  without  money 
or  reward.  Peter  Blundell  of  Tiverton  (1599),  the  founder 
of  a  school  still  famous,  was  very  explicit  in  his  directions 
on  this  subject.  He  limited  the  number  of  scholars  to 
one  hundred  and  fifty,  and  gave  a  preference  for  admis- 
sion to  those  brought  up  in  the  parish,  but  adds:  — 

"  If  the  same  number  be  not  filled  up,  the  want  shall  be  supplied 
with  the  children  of  foreigners  if  with  the  consent  often  householders 
of  Tiverton.     And  my  desire  is  that  they  will  make  choice  of  the 


240     Ascham  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

children  of  such  foreigners  as  are  of  honest  reputation  and  fear  God, 
without  regarding  the  rich  above  the  poor." 

And  then,  after  providing  a  stipend  of  ^50  to  the  head- 
master, and  20  marks  for  the  usher,  he  adds:  — 

"And  my  hope  and  desire  and  will  is  that  they  hold  themselves 
satisfied  and  content  with  that  recompense  for  their  travail,  without 
seeking  or  exacting  any  more  either  of  parent  or  children,  which 
procureth  favour  to  givers  and  the  contrary  to  such  as  do  not  or 
cannot  give,  for  my  meaning  is  that  it  shall  be  for  ever  a.  free  school, 
and  not  a  school  of  exaction." 

It  is  to  Cranmer  that  we  owe  the  first  distinct  utter- 
ance of  the  generous  policy  which  afterwards  inspired 
the  sixteenth  century  donors  and  testators.  "  It  came 
to  pass,"  says  Strype,  "that  when  they  should  elect  the 
children  of  the  grammar  school,"  in  the  newly-converted 
cathedral  church  of  Canterbury,  "  there  were  of  the  com- 
missioners more  than  one  or  two  who  would  have  none 
admitted  but  sons  and  younger  brethren  of  gentlemen," 
urging  that  "husbandmen's  children  were  more  meet  for 
the  plough,  and  to  be  artificers,  than  to  occupy  the  place 
of  the  learned  sort;  for  we  have  as  much  need  of  plough- 
men as  of  any  other  state,  and  all  sorts  of  men  may  not 
go  to  school."     To  which  Cranmer  replied  :  — 

"  I  grant  much  of  your  meaning  herein  as  needful  in  a  Common- 
wealth, but  yet  utterly  to  exclude  the  ploughman's  son  and  the  poor 
man's  son  from  the  benefit  of  learning  is  as  much  as  to  say  that 
Almighty  God  should  not  be  at  liberty  to  bestow  His  great  gifts  of 
grace  upon  any  person,  nor  nowhere  else  but  as  we  and  other  men 
shall  appoint  them  to  be  employed  according  to  our  fancy,  and  not 
according  to  His  most  godly  will  and  pleasure,  who  giveth  His  gifts 
both  of  learning  and  other  perfections  in  all  sciences  unto  all  kinds 
and  states  of  people  indifferently.  Even  so  doth  He  many  times 
withdraw  from  them  and  their  posterity  again  those  beneficial  gifts 
if  they  be  not  thankful.  Wherefore,  if  the  gentleman's  son  be  apt 
to  learning,  let  him  be  admitted;  if  not  apt,  let  the  poor  man's 
child,  that  is  apt,  enter  his  room." 


No  provision  for  girls'  education  241 

And  this  sentiment  of  Cranmer's  happily  remained 
for  generations  the  chief  and  most  honourable  charac- 
teristic of  the  ancient  grammar  schools.  The  education 
they  afforded  was  suited  to  the  sons  of  gentlemen;  but 
it  was  not  restricted  to  the  sons  of  gentlemen.  It  might 
qualify  a  boy  of  any  rank  to  acquire  University  distinc- 
tion, and  to  become  a  judge  or  a  bishop.  But  no  money 
was  to  be  required  of  the  pupil;  no  social  distinctions 
were  to  "be  recognizable  in  the  school  itself;  and  it  was 
one  of  the  highest  triumphs  of  the  whole  system,  when 
the  governors  of  a  grammar  school  were  able  to  point  to 
a  scholar  of  humble  origin,  who  had  been  led  by  a  love 
of  learning,  and  tempted  by  the  scholarships  and  en- 
couragements which  the  school  offered,  to  quit  the  rank 
of  artizan  or  ploughman,  to  acquire  distinction,  and  to 
become  able  to  serve  God  eminently  in  Church  or  State. 

But  it  need  not  be  said,  that  for  the  sisters  of  these  No  pro- 
favoured  scholars  the  grammar  school  made  no  provision  "L['nV!  ^ 
whatever.  They  were  not  wanted  to  serve  God  in  Church  cation. 
or  State.  If  they  are  mentioned  at  all  in  wills  and 
statutes,  it  is  that  they  may  be  definitely  excluded  from 
all  participation  in  the  benefits  of  the  schools.  Thus, 
John  Lyon,  in  founding  Harrow,  says  expressly,  though, 
as  it  seems,  quite  superfluously,  that  no  girls  shall  be 
received  or  taught  in  his  school :  and  in  Peter  Blundell's 
statutes,  relating  to  his  foundation  at  Tiverton,  he  makes 
his  own  meaning  on  this  point  clear  by  stating  that  there 
shall  be  no  scholars  but  boys.  The  truth  is  that  the 
ordinary  founder  thought  that  there  was  no  chance  of 
mistake  on  this  head,  and  that  his  will  would  be  inter- 
preted —  as  indeed  it  always  was  —  to  apply  as  a  matter 
of  course  to  boys  only.  There  was  generally  no  intentional 
or  explicit  exclusion  of  their  sisters,  but  the  question  of 
their  inclusion  scarcely  ever  arose,  and  does  not  seem  to 

R 


242     AscJiam  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

have  occurred  to  anyone.  At  any  rate,  the  Commis- 
sioners of  1865,  who  investigated  the  history  and  actual 
condition  of  endowed  foundations,  could  not  find  one 
which  had  been  deliberately  designed  to  furnish  a 
liberal  education  for  girls,  though  they  found  many  of  the 
Charity  schools  of  a  later  date  admitting  both  boys  and 
girls,  and  giving  them  the  meagre  rudiments  of  instruction 
supposed  to  be  appropriate  for  labourers  and  servants. 
And  if  in  this  age  we  have  arrived  at  the  conclusion  that 
a  good  and  generous  education  is  just  as  much  needed 
by  girls  as  by  their  brothers,  and  that  it  would  in  their 
case  be  quite  as  properly  provided,  and  turned  to  equally 
valuable  account,  it  is  to  the  later  experience,  the  awak- 
ened conscience,  and  the  enlarged  conception  of  duty  in 
the  nineteenth  century,  that  the  change  is  to  be  attributed, 
and  not  to  any  recourse  to  the  measures  or  the  ideals  of 
the  sixteenth. 
The  It  is  mainly  owing  to  the  existence  of  the  mediaeval 

ffraff/wflr„rammar  schools,   to  the  explicit   directions    in  their 

School  l 

theory.  statutes  and  deeds  of  gift,  and  to  their  intimate  con- 
nexion with  the  Universities,  that  the  type  of  education 
which  they  represented  has  survived  so  long,  and  has  so 
dominated  the  popular  conception  of  what  scholarship 
and  learning  mean.  A  man  who  has  been  duly  instructed 
in  Latin  and  Greek  is  regarded  as  a  scholar/tor  excellence, 
however  ignorant  he  may  be  of  other  things;  and  another 
man  skilled  in  science,  accomplished  in  modern  lan- 
guages, literature,  and  philosophy,  but  knowing  no 
Greek,  has  no  claim  to  be  considered  a  scholar  at  all. 
Yet  since  the  establishment  of  grammar  schools, 
French,  German,  and  English  have  acquired  a  literary 
character.  Each  has  opened  out  to  the  student  a  noble 
literature,  and  has  been  made  the  subject  of  philological 
investigation.     Our  own  language  especially  has  been 


Modification  of  tlic  Grammar  School  theory     243 

traced  to  its  source.  What  we  still  call  (in  spite  of  the 
late  Professor  Freeman)  Anglo-Saxon,  with  its  fuller 
inflections  and  synthetic  structure,  has  revealed  to  the 
English  student  the  true  meaning  of  those  fragments  of 
accidence  and  syntax  which  survive  in  our  current  speech. 
And  in  the  presence  of  our  existing  resources,  it  is  diffi- 
cult to  deny  that  the  student  of  one  ancient  language  and 
one  modern — say  Latin  and  German,  or  Greek  and 
French,  or  either  Latins;- Greek  and  Anglo-Saxon — is  in, 
a  better  position,  as  far  as  philology  is  concerned,  than  if 
he  confined  all  his  linguistic  studies  to  Latin  and  Greek. 
He  will  know  at  least  as  much  of  the  philosophy  of 
grammar,  and  of  the  principles  which  underlie  the 
structure  of  all  language,  and  he  will  certainly  not  have 
been  less  successfully  disciplined  in  accuracy  of  expres- 
sion and  of  thought. 

It  is  impossible  for  us  to  overlook  the  claims  of  other 
subjects,  and,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  one  modern  language 
at  least,  mathematics,  and  some  acquaintance  with  the 
literature  and  history  of  the  later  centuries,  form  part  of 
every  scheme  of  liberal  education,  even  when  the  claims 
of  physical  science  are  neglected  altogether.  But  the 
effect  of  undertaking  to  do  all  this,  and  at  the  same  time 
to  maintain  the  superstition  that  Latin  and  Greek  must 
form  the  staple  of  every  gentleman's  education,  is  that 
some  of  these  things  must  be  learned  imperfectly.  And 
it  often  results  that  Greek  and  Latin  are  the  subjects  so 
learned.  How  many  of  the  scholars  of  the  grammar 
schools,  or  even  of  the  Universities,  could  talk,  write 
easily,  or  think  in  Latin?  What  proportion  of  those 
who  learn  Greek,  read  Sophocles  or  Homer  with  ease 
and  pleasure  and  catch  the  full  flavour  and  spirit  of  the 
language  ?  A  very  large  percentage  of  the  scholars  who 
go  out  from  the  Universities  have  carried  their  studies 


244     AscJiam  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

far  enough  to  acquire  a  knowledge  of  the  grammar,  and 
to  read,  by  means  of  helps  and  commentaries,  certain 
well-known  and  well-annotated  authors;  but  they  have 
stopped  short  at  the  point  at  which  the  learning  of  a 
language  becomes  a  real  instrument  of  literary  culture, 
and  produces  an  educational  result  at  all  commensurate 
with  the  time  and  effort  expended  in  acquiring  it. 
How  far  When  schoolmasters   and   professors    insist   on    the 

should  u     importance  of  learninsr  both  the  ancient  languages,  and 

be  modified        '  °  . 

bv  later      talk  of  them  as  the  keys  by  which  the  whole  literature  of 
expert-       Europe  is  to  be  opened,  it  would  seem  that  they  overlook 

ence  / 

the  fact  of  the  great  differences  in  the  claims  of  the  two. 
The  praise  of  symmetry  and  regularity  of  form  does  not 
apply  equally  to  Greek  and  to  Latin.  There  is  in  Greek 
a  frequent  tendency  to  deviate  from  rules  and  from  the 
normal  type,  and  to  indulge  in  constructions  which  are 
not  explicable  by  formal  grammatical  rules.  The  spirit 
of  the  Latin  language  has  indeed  entered  deeply  into  the 
heart  of  our  literature;  has  influenced  the  structure  and 
vocabulary  of  our  own  language,  and  fashioned  the 
modes  of  thought  of  all  our  greatest  writers.  But  the 
same  cannot  be  said  of  Greek.  Except  in  our  scientific 
terminology,  Greek  has  hardly  influenced  the  English 
vocabulary  at  all.  For  the  purpose  of  understanding 
that  terminology  it  is  in  no  sense  necessary  to  learn  the 
Greek  language :  a  few  days  would  suffice  to  give  to  the 
student  enough  of  a  dictionary  or  vocabulary  to  enable 
him  to  understand  every  English  derivative  from  Greek. 
There  remains  of  course  the  higher  aim,  that  of  acquir- 
ing an  insight  into  the  meaning  of  the  philosophy,  the 
oratory,  and  the  poetry  of  ancient  Greece.  And  it  may 
well  be  admitted,  that  whenever  this  is  possible  of  attain- 
ment, the  study  may  prove  of  priceless  value.  But, 
except  to  the  comparatively  rare  scholar,  it  is  not  attain- 


Later  Experience  245 

able.  The  literature  of  any  language,  if  studied  to  any 
purpose,  should  be  stimulating;  it  should  give  ideas,  it 
should  form  taste,  it  should  inspire  the  reader  with  a  love 
of  eloquence  and  poetry.  Can  it  be  seriously  contended 
that  the  study  of  Greek  in  modern  grammar  schools  and 
Universities  carries  the  rank  and  file  of  the  students  to 
this  point?  The  school-boy  or  the  undergraduate,  if  he 
feels  the  beauty  of  ancient  writing  at  all,  recognizes  the 
beauty  of  parts  —  often  of  very  minute  parts  —  but  he  sees 
and  knows  little  or  nothing  of  the  literary  product  as  a 
whole.  He  is  preparing  his  mind  for  exercises  in  com- 
position and  verse-making;  his  attention  is  devoted  to 
minute  points  of  quantity,  to  well-sounding  epithets, 
to  circumlocutions  and  mannerisms;  and  he  is  forced 
to  regard  his  author  under  conditions  as  unfavourable  as 
possible  to  the  development  of  a  true  taste  and  the  habit 
of  just  criticism. 

This  point  has  been  well  insisted  on  and  illustrated 
by  Mr  Henry  Sidgwick,  who  adds :  — 

"  It  is  only  at  a  certain  stage  in  a  youth's  progress  that  Latin  and 
Greek  begin  to  give  training  in  literature.  In  many  cases  the  boy 
or  the  undergraduate  never  becomes  able  to  extract  and  feed  on  the 
beauties  of  his  authors.  A  mind  exhausted  with  linguistic  struggles 
is  not  in  a  state  to  receive  delicate  literary  impressions  ;  instead  of 
being  penetrated  with  the  subtle  and  simple  graces  of  form,  it  is 
filled  to  the  brim  with  thoughts  of  gender,  quantity,  tertiary  predi- 
cates, and  the  uses  of  the  subjunctive  mood."1 

Such  is  the  inbred  conservatism  of  English  scholar- 
ship, that  there  still  remain  many  who  are  content  with 
the  ideal  of  the  sixteenth  century,  whose  sense  of  propor- 
tion is  so  imperfect  that  they  look  upon  any  product  of 
more  recent  thought  and  experience  as  necessarily  hav- 
ing in  it  a  flavour  of  the  upstart,  the  bourgeois,  and  the 
1  Essay  on  the  Theory  of  a  Classical  Education. 


246     Ascham  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

second-rate.  Such  persons  —  and  they  are  many  —  would 
still  maintain,  in  grammar  and  public  schools,  the  con- 
ception of  liberal  study,  and  of  the  humanities,  which 
prevailed  when  those  schools  were  founded.  That 
theory  may  be  summed  up  shortly  in  three  assumptions: 

( 1 )  That  the  study  of  language  is  not  only  the  one  form 
of  discipline  which  is  supremely  important,  but  it  is 
important  enough  to  justify  the  devotion  of  from  three- 
fourths  to  five-sixths  of  the  whole  time  of  a  learner  from 
the  age  of  six  or  seven  to  the  end  of  his  University  course ; 

(2)  that  this  discipline  can  only  be  rightly  obtained  by 
the  study  of  two  ancient  languages;  and  (3)  that  in  order 
to  obtain  a  true  mastery  of  these  two  languages,  it  is 
essential  that  the  scholar  should  not  only  read  them,  but 
write,  and,  in  particular,  should  compose  verses  in  them. 

This  is  the  form  in  which  the  ideal  of  liberal  study 
inherited  from  the  sixteenth  century  still  exists  among 
us.  It  is  not  to  be  believed  that  the  founders  of  ancient 
grammar  schools,  if  they  lived  now  and  could  fashion  their 
plans  in  the  presence  of  modern  facts  and  experience, 
would  ask  us  to  accept  such  a  theory  of  education  as 
this.  Nor  is  it  easy  to  believe  that  the  theory  in  the 
same  form  can  survive  much  longer. 
How  much  What,  then,  can  survive,  or  ought  to  survive,  from 
survive*?  tne  sixteenth-century  scheme  of  a  liberal  and  humane 
training?  Much,  it  may  be  hoped.  This  in  the  first 
place :  That  the  systematic  study  of  language  ought  to 
hold  a  high  place,  perhaps  even  the  highest  place,  among 
formative  educational  agencies.  Moreover,  such  study  is 
indispensable,  not  only  because  language  is  the  instru- 
ment for  the  expression  of  our  thoughts,  but  because  it  is 
the  main  instrument  for  accurate  thinking  on  any  subject 
at  all.  Further,  the  fullest  and  best  insight  into  the 
philosophy  of  language  is  not  to  be  had  from  the  study 


Hoiv  much  should  survive  ?  247 

of  a  modern  and  analytic  language  alone,  but  is  to  be 
best  attained  by  the  comparison  of  such  a  language  with 
a  synthetic  and  highly  inflected  language.  The  best  and 
most  fruitful  studies  are  those  which  are  not  limited  to 
their  immediate  object,  but  those  which  tend  to  carry 
the  learner  further  into  other  regions  of  thought,  and  to 
shed  light  on  subjects  other  than  themselves.  And  the 
study  of  language  fulfils  this  condition  in  an  eminent 
degree.  For,  since  all  possible  human  knowledge 
requires  language  for  its  exponent,  there  are  no  sciences 
with  which  grammar  and  philology  are  not  concerned,  or 
which  do  not  gain  help  and  light  from  whatever  exercises 
give  precision  and  clearness  to  a  student's  use  of  words. 
Lastly,  it  is  to  be  borne  in  mind  that,  of  all  forms  of 
intellectual  exercise,  those  which  touch  the  imagination, 
which  refine  the  taste  and  literary  perception,  which 
place  the  learner  in  closer  sympathy  with  the  great  writers 
and  thinkers  of  former  ages,  —  the  humanities,  in  short 
—  furnish  the  best  possible  corrective  to  much  of  the 
materialism  of  modern  science,  and  are  a  standing  and 
ever-needed  vindication  of  the  truth  that  "a  man's  life 
consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  things  that  he  pos- 
sessed!," but  chiefly  in  ideas,  in  high  and  large  thoughts, 
in  memories  of  what  is  best  in  the  past,  and  in  visions  of 
what  is  best  in  the  future.  All  this  was  recognized  and 
aimed  at,  more  or  less  successfully,  by  the  founders  of 
grammar  schools.  All  this,  we  may  hope,  English 
schools  and  schoolmasters  will  continue  to  aim  at  for 
generations  yet  to  come,  even  though  the  traditional 
supremacy  of  Greek  and  Latin,  and  the  belief  in  the 
educative  value  of  Latin  versification,  may  come  to  be 
rudely  questioned,  and  even  to  a  large  extent  abandoned. 
Whatever  happens,  we  may  not  forget  that  what  the 
sixteenth  century  gave  to  her  children  was  her  very  best. 


248     Ascham  and  the  Schools  of  the  Renaissance 

The  founders  of  grammar  schools  and  framersof  statutes 
looked  round  them  at  such  intellectual  resources  as  were 
then  in  existence.  They  asked  themselves  what  had 
been  the  influences  which  had  contributed  most  to 
the  making  of  the  writers,  the  lawyers,  the  divines,  the 
statesmen  of  their  time,  and  they  sought  to  place  these 
influences  within  the  reach  of  every  member  of  the 
community  who  coveted  them,  and  who  would  know 
how  to  use  them.  No  higher  standard  of  duty  can  be 
present  to  us  who  are  their  successors.  We  too  are 
bound  to  give  to  our  children  the  best  we  have.  But 
our  best  is  not  the  same  as  that  which  Colet  and  Erasmus, 
which  Cecil  or  Somerset,  which  Ascham  or  Sidney  knew. 
Between  us  and  them  there  lie  three  centuries  of  unex- 
ampled mental  activity  and  productiveness.  The  world 
has  been  enriched  by  new  knowledge  and  new  thoughts, 
with  material  discoveries,  with  poetry,  with  history,  with 
speculations  unknown  to  the  contemporaries  of  Elizabeth. 
We  have  simply  to  do  with  our  resources  and  experience 
what  they  did  with  theirs  —  what  they  would  certainly 
have  done  had  they  lived  in  our  time.  We  have  to  clear 
our  minds  of  illusions,  to  ask  ourselves  which  of  all  these 
resources  is  best  calculated  to  help  our  children  in  living 
a  noble,  useful,  and  intelligent  life.  Having  done  this, 
it  behoves  us  to  use  these  resources  to  the  utmost,  in  the 
full  belief  that  our  successors  in  their  turn  will  be  able  to 
emancipate  themselves  from  all  which  is  not  really  helpful 
in  the  traditions  of  the  past,  and  will  shape  their  plans  in 
the  light  of  their  own  experience,  and  of  the  altered 
conditions  and  new  wants  of  the  coming  generations. 


LECTURE   VIII 

TEACHERS'    INSTITUTES   AND   CONVENTIONS 
IN    AMERICA1 

Conditions  of  education  in  the  United  States.  Teachers  trained  and 
untrained.  Institutes.  Henry  Barnard.  Scope  and  aim  of  the 
Institutes.  Voluntary  associations  of  teachers.  Co-operation 
of  the  clergy  and  public  men.  Summary  of  general  purpose  of 
Conventions.  Newport,  Rhode  Island.  The  College  Associa- 
tion of  Philadelphia.  St  John,  New  Brunswick.  Chautauqua. 
Reading  Circles.  Absence  of  educational  politics.  The  cor- 
porate spirit  among  teachers.  The  Teachers'  Guild  and  its 
future. 

When  I  was  honoured  with  a  request  from  your 
Council  to  give  a  lecture  at  this  meeting,  I  could  not 
help  being  reminded  that  since  I  last  addressed  any 
meeting  of  the  Guild,  I  had  enjoyed  opportunities  of 
witnessing  several  gatherings  of  teachers  on  the  other 
side  of  the  Atlantic;  and  it  seemed  to  me  that  a  brief 
account  of  some  of  this  experience  might  not  be  in- 
appropriate or  unwelcome  to-day.  The  Teachers'  Guild 
represents  the  first  serious  attempt  in  England  to  bring 
together  teachers  of  all  ranks,  and  to  enable  them  to 
interchange  experience.     It  aims  at  helping  them  to  feel 

1  Address  at  the  Annual  Meeting  of  the  Teachers'  Guild.  June, 
1889. 

249 


250         Teachers'1  Institutes  and  Conventions 

confidence  in  each  other,  and  to  co-operate,  not  so  much 
for  the  defence  of  professional  interests,  as  for  the 
furtherance  of  the  public  interests  —  the  interests  of  the 
children  committed  to  their  charge,  and  the  improve- 
ment in  the  aims  and  methods  of  education  generally. 
Now  these  objects  are  sought  in  a  large  degree  by  many 
American  teachers;  but  they  are  attained  by  means  very 
different  from  those  which  would  be  available  in  this 
country.  We  cannot  hope  to  make  true  progress  by 
simply  imitating  the  institutions  and  usages  which  seem 
to  us  admirable  in  other  lands.  Every  nation  has  its 
own  problems,  its  own  traditions,  and  history,  and  it 
must  shape  its  course  in  a  wholly  eclectic  fashion; 
studying,  no  doubt,  with  respectful  interest,  institutions 
and  methods  which  have  succeeded  elsewhere;  but  using 
such  observations  rather  with  a  view  to  find  suggestion 
and  right  impulse,  than  with  any  intention  to  become 
copyists.  All  institutions  which  are  worth  anything  must 
grow  and  adapt  themselves  to  their  environment,  and  to 
the  special  needs  and  experience  of  those  who  have  to 
use  them.  They  cannot  be  manufactured  all  at  once. 
Conditions  \  have,  in  another  place,1  described  in  some  detail 
tion  in  the  me  special  conditions  under  which  education  is  con- 
United  ducted  and  organized  in  America.  It  will  suffice  here 
to  mention  two  or  three  preliminary  facts  which  need  to 
be  taken  into  account  whenever  we  try  to  discuss  edu- 
cational phenomena  in  that  country.  There  is,  to  begin 
with,  no  such  thing  as  an  American  system  of  education. 
The  Federal  Government  has  accepted  no  responsibility 
in  the  matter  of  public  instruction.  Each  of  the  42  States 
is,  we  must  remember,  in  many  respects,  a  sovereign  State, 
making  its  own  laws,  raising  its  own  taxes,  appointing 

1  In  Notes  on  American  Schools  and  Training  Colleges  appended 
to  the  Reports  of  the  Education  Department  for  1889. 


Education  in  the  United  States  251 

its  own  public  officers,  and  perfectly  free  to  form  its  own 
conception  of  what  education  ought  to  be,  how  it  is  to 
be  provided,  and  how  far  it  shall  be  enforced.  And 
even  the  States  are  subdivided;  for  often  a  single  county, 
or  township,  and  always  a  city  of  any  consequence,  has 
its  own  separate  Board  or  School  Committee,  charged 
with  the  administration  of  the  school  fund  of  the  district, 
and  practically  independent  of  all  other  bodies.  There 
is  no  central  authority,  which  can  co-ordinate  these 
various  agencies  or  bring  them  into  harmony.  The 
school  system  is  an  essentially  local  organization.  One 
State  or  City  may  be  favourable  to  normal  training,  and 
may  make  a  liberal  provision  for  training  colleges. 
Another  may  be  without  them  altogether.  And  every1, 
normal  college  is  exclusively  a  local  institution.  It  trains' 
teachers  for  employment  in  the  particular  city  or  district 
in  which  it  is  established,  and  its  certificate  or  diploma 
is  valid  only  in  that  city  or  district.  There  is  no  gen- 
erally recognized  standard  of  qualification  for  the  pro- 
fession of  a  teacher.  Nor,  indeed,  is  any  well-known 
standard  of  scholarship  connoted  by  a  university  degree; 
for  every  one  of  the  separate  colleges  and  universities 
in  the  States  confers  its  own  distinctions  on  its  own 
pupils  in  accordance  with  regulations  made  by  itself. 

In  like  manner  each  of  the  several  provinces  of 
Canada  has  its  legislature,  which  raises  and  appropriates 
the  school  fund,  and  makes  its  own  laws.  There  are 
normal  schools.,  and  arrangements  for  the  certification  of 
qualified  teachers;  but  all  these  depend  on  the  initiative 
of  the  several  provinces.  So  neither  the  Dominion 
Parliament  at  Ottawa  nor  the  Federal  Government  at 
Washington  is  concerned  with  the  organization  of  public 
instruction  for  the  whole  country.  That  is  the  business 
of  the  province,  the  state,  the  city,  or  some  still  smaller 


252         TeacJiers1  Institutes  and  Conventions 

administrative  unit.  Hence,  there  are  to  be  found  in  all 
parts  of  the  North  American  Continent,  local  patriotism, 
local  rivalry,  and  often  very  original  and  vigorous  enter- 
prise, but  also  great  inequalities.  As  in  the  great  broad 
land  itself,  so  you  have  in  the  field  of  education,  many 
fertile  and  promising,  but  some  comparatively  barren 
and  neglected  tracts;  and  the  first  duty  of-everyone  who 
attempts  to  speak  on  such  a  subject  is  to  guard  himself 
against  the  temptation  to  generalize  too  rapidly,  or  to 
make  comprehensive  inductions  on  data  in  themselves 
so  various  and  so  widely  separated. 
Teachers,  Another  point  which  should  be  borne  in  mind  is, 
untrained  tnat  tne  nurn^er  °f  persons  who,  in  America,  devote 
their  lives  to  the  profession  of  teaching,  is,  relatively  to 
the  population,  smaller  than  in  England,  and  the  average 
stay  of  teachers  in  the  ranks  is  proportionately  smaller. 
Unless  a  man  has  special  ability  such  as  justifies  him  in 
expecting  to  be  a  master  in  a  high  school,  or  a  professor 
in  a  college,  he  is  much  more  likely  than  his  English 
brother  to  be  attracted,  after  two  or  three  years'  teaching, 
to  commerce,  to  the  press,  or  to  the  pulpit.  And  the 
period  during  which  female  teachers  —  who  constitute 
about  five-sixths  of  the  staff  of  what  in  England  we  should 
call  elementary  schools  —  remaininthe  professionis  much 
shorter.  Very  few  women  remain,  or  would  be  allowed 
to  remain,  in  the  profession  after  marriage,  and  it  is 
computed  that  the  average  duration  of  their  service  in 
elementary  schools  does  not  exceed  three  years.  In 
these  circumstances  it  is  not  surprising  that  com- 
paratively few  of  the  teachers  are  willing  to  undergo  any 
laborious  training  by  way  of  preparation  for  so  transi- 
tory an  employment.  As  a  matter  of  fact,  not  more 
than  one-tenth  of  the  teachers  in  the  common  schools  of 
America  have  beenspecially  trained  in  normal  seminaries; 


Institutes  253 

and  of  these  some  have  devoted  two  or  four  years,  but 
some  only  twelve,  six,  or  only  three  months  to  such 
special  preparation.  The  normal  schools  are  seldom  or 
never  residential  institutions;  much  of  their  training  is 
general  and  academical,  and  has  no  exclusive  bearing 
on  professional  work;  and  many  of  them  are  attended 
by  considerable  numbers  of  students  who  do  not  propose 
to  follow  the  calling  of  a  teacher,  but  who  wish  to  avail 
themselves  of  the  excellent  teaching  of  the  lecturers  in 
non-professional  subjects. 

Nevertheless,  a  belief  in  the  paramount  importance 
of  special  preparation  for  the  teacher's  office,  is  very 
strong  throughout  all  parts  of  America,  and  is  daily 
becoming  stronger  and  more  general.  This  belief  finds 
expression  in  many  ways,  notably  in  the  existence  of 
institutes,  teachers'  associations,  and  conventions,  read- 
ing circles,  and  other  means  whereby  the  lack  of  regular 
normal  training  and  discipline  is,  in  some  cases,  largely 
compensated,  and  the  training  itself,  in  the  case  of 
those  who  have  enjoyed  it,  is  supplemented  and  made 
effective. 

By  an  "  institute "  in  America  is  meant  a  normal  institutes. 
class,  held  periodically  for  the  teachers  of  a  district,  and 
furnishing  instruction  in  the  art  and  practice  of  edu- 
cation, and  an  opportunity  for  the  discussion  of  methods. 
These  institutes  are,  in  fact,  migratory  and  occasional 
academies,  and  they  were  brought  into  existence  before 
any  regular  normal  schools  were  founded.  The  first 
meeting  of  this  kind  was  held  in  Hartford,  in  Con- 
necticut, as  far  back  as  1839,  by  Henry  Barnard,  who 
was  the  Secretary  to  the  State  Board  of  Education,  and 
who  gathered  together  twenty-six  young  teachers  in  the 
public  schools,  and  provided  for  them,  during  several 
weeks,  a  course  of  lectures,  reviewing  the  topics  usually 


254         Teachers'  Institutes  and  Conventions 

taught  in  the  common  schools,  and  furnishing  some  in- 
struction in  method,  supplemented  by  visits  of  observa- 
Henry        tion  to  the  public  schools  of  the  city.     I  ought,  in  passing, 

Barnard.  .  .. 

to  say  how  much  the  literature  of  education  owes  to 
Mr  Barnard,  who  has  during  a  long  life  spent  himself, 
and,  I  fear,  much  of  his  fortune  too,  in  efforts  to  reprint 
costly  works  and  monographs  on  education.  It  was  a 
great  pleasure  to  me  to  see  this  educational  veteran  at 
a  meeting  of  teachers  in  Rhode  Island,  and  to  find  him 
still,  in  his  honoured  old  age,  as  keenly  interested  as 
ever  in  the  advancement  of  educational  science  and  in 
the  practical  improvement  of  scholastic  methods.  The 
example  he  set  was  imitated  at  first  in  a  rather  fitful 
and  hesitating  way,  but  afterwards  more  systematically. 
The  earliest  of  these  gatherings  were  purely  volun- 
tary on  the  part  of  the  teachers,  and  grew  out  of 
the  endeavour  to  qualify  themselves  for  their  work; 
but  soon,  during  the  first  decade,  several  of  the  New 
England  States  began  to  make  it  an  obligation  on  the 
younger  teachers  to  attend  them,  and  the  management 
of  them  was  placed  in  the  charge  of  the  school  superin- 
tendents, or  other  officers  appointed  for  the  purpose. 
By  degrees  the  system  spread,  at  first  to  the  Southern, 
and  afterwards  to  the  Western  States,  and  the  "  Teachers' 
Institute  "  is  now  a  recognized  factor  in  the  educational 
system  throughout  the  Union,  and  in  the  Dominion  of 
Canada.  The  data  for  any  safe  general  statement  in 
!  reference  to  them  are  somewhat  scattered,  diverse,  and 
obscure.  In  a  few  States  institutes  are  not  legally  re- 
quired to  be  held  at  all;  in  some,  institutes  are  incorpo- 
rated into  State  or  District  systems,  and  in  others  into 
County  systems.  In  some  they  are  held  under  State 
authority,  and  in  others  under  local  authority.  In  some 
cases  the  expenses  are  paid  by  State  funds,  in  others  by 


TJicir  Scope  and  Aim  255 

county  funds,  in  others  by  contributions  from  the  teachers, 
and  in  others  by  the  fees  for  teachers'  licenses.  In  some 
cases  the  institutes  are  held  at  a  fixed  time,  when  the 
schools  are  closed,  and  in  others  they  are  held  at  any 
time  the  local  authorities  may  choose,  and  when  the 
schools  are  in  session.  Jn  some,  the  schools  are  closed 
during  the  sessions  of  the  institute,  in  others  they  remain 
open.  In  some,  the  teachers  are  paid  for  attending, 
or  fined  for  not  attending;  in  others  neither  course  is 
pursued.  Some  of  them  are  held  by  voluntary  or  private 
persons,  and  others  —  now  by  far  the  greater  number  — 
by  the  official  superintendent  of  the  district,  or  under  his 
direction.  The  time  devoted  to  them  also  varies  ma- 
terially. In  many  States  provision  is  made  for  an  annual 
session  of  from  three  to  six  days,  and  in  a  few  for  a  session 
of  two,  or  even  three  weeks.  In  other  States  the  teachers 
are  required  to  meet  monthly,  or  once  in  two  months, 
for  two  or  three  hours  in  the  evening  or  on  Saturday. 

But,  though  diverse  in  all  these  respects,  the  ob]ectScof>e  and 
to  be  attained  and  the  method  of  attaining  it  are  practi-  a*m°ftfie 
cally  uniform.  They  are  designed,  in  the  first  place 
and  mainly,  for  the  help  of  the  large  number  of  teachers 
who  have  not  been  trained  in  normal  seminaries;  and,  in 
the  second  place,  for  the  help  of  those  who  have  been  so 
trained.  "Their  aim,"  says  a  recent  report  of  the  Com- 
missioner, "  is  to  revive  the  spirit  and  confidence  of 
teachers,  awaken  a  pride  in  the  profession,  stimulate  to 
self-improvement,  and  by  a  progressive  course  of  study 
and  instruction  review  the  branches  taught  in  the  schools, 
and  increase  the  practical  requirements  of  the  teachers." 
Accordingly  it  is  the  duty  of  each  official  school  super- 
intendent, or  district  inspector,  to  classify  the  teachers 
of  his  district,  and  to  gather  into  their  several  classes 
those  who  take  up  the  work  of  each  standard  or  grade. 


256         Teachers  Institutes  and  Conventions 

A  young  teacher,  it  must  be  observed,  is,  on  admission, 
examined  and  certified,  with  a  view  to  her  service  in 
a  class  of  a  given  grade.  She  cannot  take  charge  of  a 
higher  class  without  a  further  examination,  and  a  higher 
diploma.  While  attached  to  a  particular  class,  it  is  her 
duty  to  attend  the  lessons  at  the  Institute  specially 
adapted  to  the  work  of  that  particular  grade,  so  that 
in  each  department  the  young  people  are  receiving  in- 
struction in  method,  in  so  far  as  it  is  applicable  to 
the  work  of  their  own  classes.  Besides  this,  collective 
instruction  is  given  occasionally  on  larger  questions 
relating  to  the  general  principles  of  teaching  and  organi- 
zation. But,  on  the  whole,  it  may  be  said  that  "Insti- 
tutes," in  the  American  sense,  while  not  designed  in 
any  way  to  supersede' regular  normal  training,  furnish, 
in  many  cases,  a  useful  supplement  to  it,  and  in  many 
more,  help  in  an  appreciable  degree,  to  supply  the  lack 
of  such  training.  I  should  add  that  the  various  boards 
and  school  authorities  seldom  appoint  a  man  to  the 
office  of  school  Superintendent  or  Inspector  who  is  not 
competent  to  direct  and  hold  such  institutes,  and  to 
lecture  to  the  teachers  on  method. 
Voluntary  Besides  these  local  institutes,  which  are  essentially 
associa-      normal  classes,  engaged  in  a  good  deal  of  merely  technical 

turns  of  -      *  •  1  1  ,  •        ■ 

teachers,  work,  there  are  in  America  other  and  larger  organizations, 
of  a  wholly  voluntary  kind,  which,  though  mainly,  are 
not  exclusively  composed  of  teachers,  and  which  seek 
to  elucidate  the  higher  and  more  general  aspects  of 
education,  and  to  bring  the  teaching  profession  into 
due  relations  with  all  the  more  advanced  thought  of  the 
country,  with  the  professors  of  her  universities,  and  with 
the  best  of  her  writers  and  her  clergy.  Foremost  amongst 
these  was  the  New  England  Association  of  Teachers, 
which  has  subsequently  changed  its  name  to  the  American 


Co-operation  of  public  men  257 

Institute  of  Instruction.  It  was  founded  in  1830  at 
Boston,  and  the  first  meeting,  attended  by  300  persons, 
chiefly  from  the  Eastern  States,  was  presided  over  by 
the  well-known  Dr  Wayland,  the  President  of  Brecon 
University.  In  his  introductory  address  he  struck  the 
keynote  of  the  whole  enterprise,  and  foreshadowed  with 
clear  insight  the  future  history  of  an  Association,  which, 
after  58  years  of  growth,  is  to-day  more  flourishing  and 
influential  than  ever.     He  said :  — 

"  In  the  long  train  of  her  joyous  anniversaries  New  England  lias 
yet  beheld  no  one  more  illustrious  than  this.  We  have  assembled 
to-day,  not  to  proclaim  how  well  our  fathers  have  done,  but  to 
enquire  how  we  may  enable  her  sons  to  do  better.  .  .  .  We  have 
come  up  here,  to  the  City  of  the  Pilgrims,  to  ask  how  we  may  ren- 
der their  children  more  worthy  of  their  ancestors,  and  more  pleasing 
to  their  God.  We  meet  to  give  to  each  other  the  right  hand  of 
fellowship  in  carrying  forward  this  all-important  work,  and  here  to 
leave  our  professional  pledge,  that  if  the  succeeding  generations  do 
not  act  worthily  the  guilt  shall  not  rest  upon  those  who  are  now  the 
instructors  of  New  England." 

In  the  four  days  during  which  the  meeting  lasted  these 
were  the  subjects  discussed:  —  Physical  education;  the 
development  of  the  intellectual  faculties  in  connexion 
with  the  teaching  of  geography;  the  infant  school  system; 
the  spelling  of  words,  and  a  rational  method  of  teaching 
their  meaning;  lyceums  and  literary  societies,  and  their 
connexion  with  the  school;  practical  methods  of  teaching- 
rhetoric,  geometry,  and  algebra;  the  monitorial  system; 
vocal  music;  classical  learning;  arithmetic;  the  con-  ■ 
struction  and   furnishing  of   school-rooms.     Very  early  Co-opera- 

in  the  history  of  the  Association   it  was  resolved  that /"''"  °J  ///c' 
11  r     i,    i  •        •  t    1  •         clergy  ana 

the  clergy  of  all  denominations,  and  the  representatives  0f public 

of  the  press  in  the  neighbourhood  in  which  the  meeting  "u"- 

was  held  should  be  invited.     Among  the  lecturers  who 

spoke  before  the  Association,    during  its  early   years, 

s 


258         Teachers'  Institutes  and  Conventions 

I  find  the  names  of  Jacob  Abbott,  whose  books  many  of 
us  delighted  in  as  children;  of  Noah  Webster, the  lexicog- 
rapher; of  George  Ticknor;  of  Spurzheim,  the  German 
philosopher;  of  Calhoun,  the  statesman,  who  lectured 
on  the  duties  of  school  committees ;  of  Lowell  Mason, 
who  advocated  the  introduction  of  music  into  the  common 
school;  of  Judge  Story,  on  the  science  of  Government 
as  a  branch  of  general  education;  of  Ralph  Waldo 
Emerson,  on  the  best  mode  of  inspiring  a  correct  taste 
in  English  literature;  of  Horace  Mann,  on  the  necessity 
of  previous  study  to  parents  and  teachers;  of  John 
Philbrick,  on  school  government;  of  George  Sumner,  on 
the  state  of  education  in  some  countries  of  Europe;  of 
-Gideon  Thayer,  on  the  means  of  awakening  in  the  minds 
of  parents  a  deeper  interest  in  the  education  of  their 
children;  of  Miss  Peabody,  on  Kindergarten,  the  Gospel 
for  children;  and  of  Henry  Ward  Beecher,  on  the  New 
Profession.  From  the  numerous  other  topics  treated 
at  these  annual  meetings  I  select  a  few  characteristic 
examples :  — 

The  study  of  the  classics;  training  the  human  voice; 
the  number  of  hours  a  day  to  be  devoted  to  instruction; 
the  sources  of  personal  power;  the  self -education  of  the 
teacher;  the  legitimate  influence  of  schools  on  com- 
merce, on  agriculture,  on  manufactures,  on  civil  polity, 
and  on  morals;  the  cultivation  of  a  sense  of  honour  among 
pupils;  the  right  and  wrong  use  of  text-books;  the  rights 
of  the  taught;  oral  teaching;  the  co-education  of  the 
sexes;  drawing  not  an  accomplishment,  but  a  language 
for  the  graphic  representation  of  facts  and  a  means  of 

<-.  ,,  developing  taste;  psychology  in  relation  to  teaching. 

of  general        As  I  look  down  through  the  annals  of  this  Association 

purposes    j  am  struck  ^vith  two  or  three  facts:   (1)  That  it  has  suc- 
of  such  . 

meetings,    ceeded  in  enlisting  the  co-operation  and  svmpathv,  not 


Meeting  at  Newport,  Rhode  Island         259 

only  of  teachers  of  all  ranks,  from  the  primary  school 
to  the  University,  but  of  nearly  all  the  most  prominent 
thinkers,  public  writers,  clergy,  statesmen,  and  lawyers 
in  the  States.  (2)  That  its  peripatetic  character  has 
enabled  it  from  year  to  year  to  break  new  ground,  to 
awaken  new  local  interest,  and  to  exercise  a  missionary 
influence  on  the  improvement  of  education  throughout 
the  whole  country.  (3)  That  the  subjects  of  discussion 
are  mainly  practical,  and  have  a  direct  bearing  on  the 
improvement  of  school  methods,  but  that  many  of  them 
are  of  a  larger  and  more  speculative  kind,  selected  with  a 
view  to  enlarge  the  intellectual  horizon  of  the  members, 
and  to  find  new  meeting-points  between  the  world  of  the 
.school-room  and  the  world  of  thought  and  of  commercial 
and  intellectual  activity  outside  of  the  school.  (4)  That 
in  all  the  topics  of  discussion  I  fail  to  find  one  which 
touches  the  question  of  the  payment  of  the  teacher  or 
his  pecuniary  or  professional  interests. 

I  had  the  great  pleasure  in  18S8  of  attending  the  Meeting  at 
58th  annual  gathering  of  this  thriving  Association.  At  Jwf 0i  ' 
Newport,  in  Rhode  Island,  there  were  assembled  during 
four  days  about  a  thousand  members,  including  the 
teachers  of  primary  and  grammar  schools,  the  professors 
in  the  chief  colleges  and  universities  in  the  New  England 
States,  the  principal  teachers  and  authorities  of  the  nor- 
mal schools,  and  nearly  all  the  school  superintendents 
and  official  inspectors.  With  these  were  associated  a 
few  public  men,  such  as  the  Mayor  of  Newport,  and  the 
State  Commissioner,  members  of  School  Boards  and 
Committees,  and  the  like.  There  were  animated  general 
meetings  at  the  beginning  and  end  of  each  day,  for 
lectures  and  addresses  on  the  more  popular  aspects  of 
education;  and  throughout  the  day  sectional  meetings, 
in  three  or  four  groups,  for  papers  and  discussions  on 


Philadel- 
phia. 


260         TeacJiers1  Institutes  and  Conventions 

special  topics.  A  simple  and  touching  religious  exercise 
introduced  each  day's  proceedings,  and  there  was  at 
times  hearty  choral  singing,  which,  with  one  or  two 
excursions  at  the  end,  constituted  the  only  dissipations 
of  the  assemblage.  The  subjects  were  of  the  same 
general  character  as  I  have  already  described,  and  I 
was  especially  struck  in  observing  the  terms  of  perfect 
freedom  and  equality  subsisting  between  the  teachers  of 
all  classes  and  the  public  officials  concerned  in  the 
administration  of  the  various  State  systems. 
The  Another  very  characteristic  meeting  at  which  I  had 

A  efia-  ^e  opportunity  of  being  present,  was  that  of  the  College 
Hon  at  Association  of  Pennsylvania,  now  enlarged  in  its  scope 
so  as  to  include  the  Colleges  and  Universities  of  the 
Middle  States  and  Maryland.  It  was  held  in  the  magni- 
ficent University  buildings  in  Philadelphia,  and  after  an 
address  of  welcome  from  the  Provost  of  the  University, 
proceeded  to  discuss  seriously,  during  two  or  three  days,  a 
number  of  topics  especially  concerned  with  higher  educa- 
tion. Among  these  were  the  place  of  History  in  a  college 
course;  the  influence  of  Endowments  on  education;  the 
German  University  of  to-day;  Post-graduate  courses; 
Pedagogics  as  a  part  of  a  college  curriculum;  the  educa- 
tion of  Women  in  colleges;  the  proper  requirements  for 
admission  to  a  college  course.  The  treatment  of  these 
topics  was  serious,  and  both  scientific  and  practical; 
there  was  full  recognition  of  great  principles,  and  yet  an 
anxious  attempt  to  see  those  principles  in  the  light  of  the 
actual  problems  of  a  professor's  life. 
St  John,  An  equally  significant  experience  awaited  us  when 

^T°   _      we  crossed  the  northern  boundary  of  the  State  of  Maine, 
wick.         and  found  ourselves  in  the  Dominion  of  Canada.     At 
St  John,  New  Brunswick,  was  held    in  July  a  conven- 
tion of  all  the  teachers  of  the  maritime  provinces  of  New 


67  JoJin,  New  Brunswick  261 

Brunswick,  Nova  Scotia,  and  Prince  Edward's  Island. 
Here,  again,  the  gathering  comprehended  teachers  of  all 
ranks,  from  the  primary  teacher  to  the  University  prin- 
cipal and  professor,  the  State  superintendents,  all  the 
inspectors  of  schools,  and  a  number  of  public  men, 
including  the  Governor  of  the  Province,  and  Ministers 
both  of  the  Provincial  and  of  the  Dominion  Govern- 
ments. There  were  some  twelve  hundred  persons  at  the 
opening  and  closing  meetings.  But  the  sectional  dis- 
cussions throughout  the  day  were  largely  attended,  and 
were  concerned  with  many  important  points  of  detail, 
which  were  earnestly  debated.  There  was  a  special 
section  devoted  to  the  investigation  of  infant  teaching 
and  discipline,  and  at  this  meeting  some  papers,  read 
by  female  teachers  of  experience,  were  of  unusual  merit 
and  suggestiveness.  Another  section  devoted  itself  to 
the  consideration  of  the  work  of  normal  schools;  another 
to  questions  relating  to  the  teaching  of  different  branches 
of  natural  science;  another  to  the  ornamentation,  fur- 
nishing, and  equipment  of  the  common  school,  and  to 
the  right  use  of  its  playgrounds  and  accessories;  and 
another  to  the  consideration  of  modes  of  inspecting  and 
examining  school  organization  and  work. 

It  was  interesting  to  observe,  in  Canada,  no  less  than 
in  the  States,  how  much  of  stimulus  and  encouragement 
teachers,  especially  the  younger  members  of  the  pro- 
fession, derived  from  these  gatherings;  how  many  new 
and  germinating  ideas  were  disseminated,  how  many 
valuable  friendships  were  formed,  and  to  how  large  an 
extent  public  opinion,  both  within  and  without  the  pro- 
fession, was  helped,  strengthened,  and  ennobled.  All 
through  the  Dominion  of  Canada,  as  well  as  through  the 
States  of  the  Union,  scores  of  such  local  meetings  are 
to  be  found  seriously  at  work  during  the  first,  second, 


262         Teachers'  Institutes  and  Conventions 

and  third  weeks  of  the  summer  holiday;  and  it  was 
specially  cheering  to  see  such  eager  and  enthusiastic 
companies  of  hard-worked  teachers,  who,  after  a  long 
session,  and  in  the  hot  weather  of  July,  voluntarily  dedi- 
cated the  first  few  days  of  their  well-earned  vacation  to 
self-improvement  and  to  professional  fellowship.  It  must 
be  owned  that  the  American  has  a  genius  for  organizing 
conventions,  and  that  all  sections  of  the  community  find 
greater  delight  in  attending  them  than  we  of  the  old  world 
are  wont  to  experience.  The  popularity  of  such  conven- 
tions seems  to  increase  year  by  year.  There  is  now,  besides 
the  various  local  gatherings  in  States  and  in  groups  of 
States,  a  National  Educational  Association,  which  or- 
ganizes every  year  a  collective  gathering  on  a  huge 
scale  at  some  great  centre,  one  year  at  Chicago,  another 
at  Boston,  another  at  St  Louis,  and  once  at  San  Fran- 
cisco. Some  thousands  of  teachers  spent  three,  four, 
or  five  days  in  travelling  across  the  continent  from 
different  parts,  in  order  to  attend  the  great  congress, 
which  lasted  from  the  17th  to  the  28th  of  July.  The 
programme  is  so  elaborate  that  a  mere  summary  of  it 
would  —  if  I  were  so  rash  as  to  attempt  to  give  it — - 
occupy  all  the  time  at  my  disposal  to-day.  I  can  only 
ask  those  of  you  who  have  ever  attended  a  British 
Association  Meeting  here  at  home,  and  who  remember 
its  elaborate  arrangements  for  receptions,  sections,  de- 
partments, sub-committees,  public  harangues,  excursions, 
and  social  arrangements,  to  imagine  such  a  meeting  on 
a  still  larger  scale,  if  you  wish  to  form  a  notion  of  the 
National  Convention  of  Teachers.  Such  great  gatherings 
are  suited  to  the  soil,  and  fit  in  better  with  the  habits 
and  social  arrangements  of  America  than  with  those  of 
England.  But  I  think  they  grow  out  of  a  genuine  zeal 
for  the  improvement  of  education,  and  out  of  a  repub 


Chautauqua  263 

lican  sentiment  that  every  man  who  has  got  anything 
good  to  say,  or  has  made  a  useful  invention  or  discov- 
ery, is  bound  to  communicate  it  to  his  fellow-teachers, 
and  to  invite  their  criticisms  upon  it. 

I  have  elsewhere  described1  the  curious,  but  very  Chautau- 
characteristic  American  institution  known  as  the  Chau-  Qua" 
tauqua  Summer  Assembly.  In  the  north-west  of  the 
great  State  of  New  York  a  clearance  has  been  made 
in  the  "forest  primaeval,"  and  near  the  shore  of  a  little 
lake.  Here  during  July  and  August  may  be  seen  an 
encampment  of  from  eight  to  ten  thousand  persons,  living 
in  tents  or  wooden  cottages,  and  forming  themselves  daily 
into  classes  and  reading  parties,  working  in  laboratories, 
studying  in  small  companies  in  a  library,  or  listening 
to  lectures.  They  have  a  number  of  separate  rooms  for 
different  kinds  of  study  or  manual  work,  a  gymnasium, 
and  a  vast  amphitheatre,  rudely  fashioned  on  the  curved 
slope  of  a  hill,  with  a  roof,  and  one  wall  on  the  side  of 
which  there  is  an  organ  and  a  platform,  but  otherwise 
open  to  the  air  and  the  woods.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
memorable  and  affecting  of  my  American  experiences  to 
have  addressed  six  thousand  people  in  this  sheltered 
place,  to  have  heard  their  voices  as  they  uplifted  a  psalm, 
while  the  ancient  trees  waved  and  rustled  all  round  them 
in  the  summer  twilight,  and  to  have  witnessed  the  hearty 
enthusiasm,  wherewith  the  whole  of  this  large  company, 
comprising  persons  of  all  ages,  shared  the  simple  recrea- 
tions of  the  place,  and  yet  seemed  all  bent  on  efforts 
after  self-improvement.  The  Assembly  is,  as  many  of 
you  know,  the  parent  of  many  similar  local  assemblies, 
and  the  headquarters  of  a  vast  organization,  extending 
through  the  whole  length  and  breadth  of  the  Union,  and 
of  the  Canadian  Dominion,  and  known  as  the  Chautauqua 
1  In  the  Nineteenth  Century  for  October,  1888. 


264         Teachers'  Institutes  and  Conventions 

Reading  Circle.  Its  members,  upwards  of  100,000  in 
number,  are  scattered  all  over  the  American  Continent, 
and  their  one  tie  of  association  is  that  they  all  pledge 
themselves  to  read  every  year  a  certain  set  of  four  or  five 
books,  to  write  papers  in  the  form  of  resume,  criticism, 
or  account  of  what  they  have  read.  Afterwards,  when 
opportunity  offers,  they  meet  from  time  to  time,  to  read  the 
books  together,  to  discuss  their  contents,  and,  if  possible, 
to  obtain  from  some  competent  professor  or  schoolmaster 
an  occasional  lecture  in  elucidation  of  one  of  the  pre- 
scribed books.  This  is  not  the  occasion  for  any  detailed 
description  of  the  Association.  It  has,  as  many  of  you 
know,  been  a  remarkably  successful  enterprise,  has  de- 
veloped among  many  persons  who  have  had  few  oppor- 
tunities of  early  study  a  sense  of  intellectual  fellowship 
with  other  self-taught  and  striving  students,  and  has 
exercised  a  far-reaching  influence  on  the  mental  life  and 
thought  of  the  American  people.  A  very  characteristic 
address  delivered  to  the  assembled  students  by  the  late 
revered  Bishop  Phillips  Brooks  of  Massachusetts,  con- 
tained a  passage  which  well  describes  the  influence 
exerted  by  the  great  Reading  Union  on  the  home  life  of 
the  American  community  and  on  its  educational  ideals : 

"  I  see  busy  households,  where  the  daily  care  has  been  lightened 
and  inspired  by  the  few  moments  caught  every  day  for  earnest  study. 
I  see  chambers  which  a  single  open  book  fills  with  light  like  a 
burning  candle.  I  see  workshops  where  the  toil  is  all  the  more 
faithful  because  of  the  higher  ambition  which  fills  the  toiler's  heart. 
I  see  parents  and  children  drawn  closer  to  one  another,  in  their 
common  pursuit  of  the  same  truth,  their  common  delight  in  the  same 
ideas.  I  see  hearts  young  and  old  kindling  with  deepened  insights 
into  life  and  broadening  with  enlarged  outlooks  over  the  richness  of 
history,  and  the  beauty  of  the  world.  Happy  fellowships  in  study, 
self  conquests,  self  discoveries,  brave  resolutions,  faithful  devotions 
to  ideals  and  hopes  —  all  these  I   see   as  I   look   abroad   upon  this 


Reading  Circles  265 


multitude  of  faces  of  the  students  of  the  great  College  of  Chau- 
tauqua." 

But  it  is  notable  that  the  whole  movement  began 
18  years  ago  in  the  form  of  a  voluntary  association  of 
teachers  chiefly  connected  with  Sunday-schools,  who  met 
together  for  the  study  of  the  Bible,  and  for  mutual  con- 
ference about  the  best  mode  of  giving  religious  instruc- 
tion. Very  soon  it  was  found  that  masters  and  mistresses 
employed  in  the  primary  schools  and  grammar  schools 
of  the  States  wished  to  associate  themselves  with  the 
Assembly;  and  the  Teachers' Retreat  was  organized,  partly 
for  summer  rest  and  congenial  fellowship,  but  mainly  for 
the  systematic  reading  of  the  best  educational  literature, 
and  for  the  discussion  of  the  methods  and  processes  of 
education.  So,  during  the  two  months  of  the  Assembly, 
about  two  weeks  are  annually  appropriated  to  the  mem- 
bers of  the  teaching  profession,  and  year  by  year  the 
number  of  such  persons  to  be  found  at  Chautauqua 
increases.  Out  of  this  experiment  grew  in  time  a 
Teachers'  Reading  Union,  for  the  benefit  of  those  who 
were  too  widely  scattered  to  give  personal  attendance 
at  the  meeting.  This  department  of  the  whole  work  of 
the  institution  is  separately  organized:  — 

"  It  suggests  the  names  of  suitable  books,  facilitates  the  circula- 
tion of  them  among  the  members,  provides  three  regular  and  several 
advanced  courses  of  professional  reading  ;  the  book-work  being 
supplemented  by  written  correspondence,  and  records  of  experience, 
and  by  special  counsels  forwarded  by  the  professors  to  the  members. 
For  the  annual  fee  of  one  dollar,  each  member  is  entitled  to  receive 
during  the  year  seven  such  communications  in  answer  to  questions, 
or  in  explanation  of  difficulties." 

This  example  has  been  extensively  followed.  The 
"Teachers'  Reading  Circle"  is  now  recognized  every- 
where as  the  most  valuable  agency  for  the  improvement 
of  the  rural  schools,  and  as  a  humble,  but  not  ineffective, 


266         Teachers'  Institutes  and  Conventions 

substitute  for  normal  training.  The  report  of  the  Com- 
missioner of  Education  says  that,  in  the  case  of  country 
teachers,  "  Whatever  knowledge  they  obtain  of  the  theory 
of  teaching,  and  whatever  promptings  they  receive  to 
enter  on  the  study  of  mind,  and  to  learn  something  of 
the  laws  of  its  growth,  may  be  set  down  largely  to  the 
creditof  theReadingCircle."  President  Allyn,  of  Illinois, 
says,  "The  work  of  the  Teachers'  Reading  Circles  is  in 
the  direction  of  healthful  mental  and  moral  progress.  No 
one  can  read  a  good  book  without  profit,  and  when  such 
a  book  is  in  the  line  of  one's  life-work,  it  is  both  inspira- 
tion and  motive  power."  As  these  views  have  prevailed, 
the  system  has,  during  the  last  seven  or  eight  years,  been 
largely  extended.  Ohio  and  Wisconsin  were  among  the 
earliest  States  to  form  State  Teachers'  Reading  Circles. 
Indiana  soon  followed,  and  at  present  more  than  twenty 
States  have  formally  adopted  the  plan.  It  is  estimated 
that  at  least  75,000  teachers  in  the  United  States  are 
reading  methodically  and  systematically  works  having 
special  relation  to  professional  and  general  culture. 
Reading  I  abridge  from  the  last  Report  presented  to  Congress 

by  the  Commissioner  of  Education  the  following  par- 
ticulars respecting  the  formation  and  work  of  these 
associations:  — 

"The  objects  of  the  State  Teachers'  Reading  Circles  are  sub- 
stantially the  same,  namely,  the  improvement  of  the  members  in 
literary,  scientific,  and  professional  knowledge,  and  the  promotion 
of  habits  of  self-culture.  This  end  is  sought  by  prescribing  a  cer- 
tain course  of  study,  securing  books  at  reduced  rates,  preparing  lists 
of  the  best  educational  publications,  by  offering  advice  and  direction 
as  to  the  methods  of  reading  and  study,  by  examinations  of  the  work 
done,  and  by  certificates  of  proficiency. 

"  The  act  of  organizing  the  State  Circle  has  generally  been 
accomplished  at  the  annual  assembly  of  the  State  Teachers'  Associa- 
tions, and  the  work  is  usually  carried  on   under  the  control   of  this 


Circles. 


The  Teachers  ATational  Reading  Circle     267 

association.  Directors  and  boards  of  management  are  chosen,  who 
map  out  the  course  and  direct  the  work  of  the  circle.  County  and 
local  circles  are  also  formed,  subsidiary  to  the  general  or  State  cir- 
cle, and  even  individual  members  may  pursue  the  course  alone. 

"  The  conditions  of  membership  are  liberal,  any  teacher  or  other 
person  being  received  who  promises  to  pursue  the  prescribed  course 
of  study,  and  pays  the  small  fee  —  usually  25  cents  or  50  cents 
annually.  Meetings  of  local  circles  for  conference,  discussion,  and 
review  are  held  once  a  week  in  some  States,  and  bi-weekly  in  others. 
The  course  of  study  is  usually  outlined  and  published  in  the  educa- 
tional journals,  and  in  the  county  papers. 

"  In  the  preparation  of  these  outlines,  a  department  of  study  is 
under  the  special  supervision  of  some  member  of  the  State  Board. 
The  object  of  this  study  is  twofold,  namely,  professional  and  general 
culture.  As  for  the  prominence  given  to  one  or  the  other  of  these 
subjects,  that  is  determined  by  the  actual  needs  of  the  teachers. 
The  fourth  year's  reading  (1886 — 87)  for  the  Ohio  Teachers'  Reading 
Circle  is  given  herewith,  to  indicate  the  general  scope  of  such  studies. 

"  Psychology.  —  Sully's  'Teacher's  Handbook  of  Psychology.' 

"  Literature.  —  '  Hamlet,'  and  '  As  You  Like  It.'  Selections 
from  Wordsworth. 

"  History.  —  Barnes's  '  Brief  General  History  of  the  World,'  or 
Thalheiner's  '  General  History.' 

"  Political  Economy. —  Gregory's  'Political  Economy,'  or  Cha- 
pin's  '  First  Principles  of  Political  Economy,'  with  at  least  one 
educational  periodical. 

"  In  a  majority  of  the  States  provision  is  made  for  stated  exami- 
nations of  the  work  performed,  and  certificates  are  awarded  with 
diplomas  upon  completion  of  the  course. 

"The  Union  Reading  Circle,  a  paper  published  in  the  interests 
of  this  work,  reports  (June,  1S87)  three  new  societies  in  Georgia, 
two  in  Kentucky,  five  in  Iowa,  and  twelve  others  in  as  many  differ- 
ent States.  Memorial  days  are  now  the  fashion;  the  poets  Bryant, 
Longfellow,  and  Tennyson,  with  Dickens  and  other  literary  men, 
receiving  their  share  of  honour  in  various  places.  The  Agassiz 
Society  of  Philadelphia  promises  to  make  the  summer  vacation  an 
opportunity  for  scientific  research  and  study,  and  each  one  will 
contribute  towards  the  common  museum.  The  Gesenius,  a  new 
circle  of  Cleveland,  makes  Hebrew  a  specialty,  as  the  Xenophon 
Society   carries   on   the   systematic   study  of  Greek.     The    Curtis 


268         Teacliers  Institutes  and  Conventions 

Society  of  Buffalo,  N.  Y.,  studies  politics,  and  discusses  all  questions 
of  reform.  The  Tulane  Home  Study  and  Reading  Society  is  organ- 
ized, with  headquarters  at  Tulane  University,  New  Orleans,  La. 

"  Besides  the  State  associations,  others  claiming  a  national  char- 
acter have  been  organized.  In  1885,  the  Teachers'  National  Read- 
ing Circle  was  legally  incorporated  under  the  laws  of  New  York. 
Prof.  W.  H.  Payne,  of  Michigan,  was  chosen  President,  supported 
by  18  directors,  constituting  the  official  board.  This  organization 
provides  18  courses  of  reading,  6  being  professional,  3  in  general 
culture,  and  9  non-professional.  In  the  first,  27  books  are  recom- 
mended. Each  course  includes  3  groups  of  studies,  2  books  in 
each  group,  and  any  course  (3  books  for  the  year)  may  be 
taken  by  the  reader.  Diplomas  will  be  granted  to  members  who 
pass  the  three  different  examinations  in  some  one  prescribed  course, 
and  who  prepare  an  accepted  thesis  on  some  educational  topic 
connected  with  the  reading.  .  .  .  One  or  two  of  the  educational 
departments  of  Canada  prescribe  a  course  of  reading  for  teachers, 
purely  voluntary,  and  hence  followed  by  no  examinations.  The 
department  provides,  however,  that  '  should  the  teachers  of  any 
inspectorial  division  agree  to  read  the  course  with  this  end  in  view, 
and  should  the  county  board  of  examiners  make  adequate  provi- 
sion for  such  examination,  the  department  would  recognize,  by  spe- 
cial certificate,  this  additional  element  of  professional  culture.'  " 

Absence  of       It  will  be  observed  that  all  the  organizations  I  have 
educa-       described  — local  institutes,  general  conventions,  reading 

tional  . 

politics,  circles,  teachers  retreats  —  set  before  them  two  objects, 
and  two  objects  only,  self-improvement,  and  the  improve- 
ment of  education.  There  is  a  remarkable  absence  in 
America  of  discussions  on  what  may  be  called  the  politics 
of  education,  or  on  the  means  of  obtaining  professional 
influence  outside  the  profession  itself.  And  it  is  to  this 
singleness  of  purpose,  to  the  essentially  practical  aim  of 
these  organized  meetings,  that  one  may  fairly  attribute 
the  interest  which  is  universally  shown  in  them,  the 
warm  and  respectful  welcome  which  they  receive  from 
parents  and  local  authorities  as  they  itinerate  from  town 
to  town,  the  large  share  of  importance  assigned  to  the 


The  corporate  spirit  among  teachers         269 

meetings  in  the  local  press,  and  the  extent  to  which  the 
influence  of  the  teaching  body  has  steadily  been  enlarged 
during  the  last  sixty  years.  Public  opinion,  after  all, 
evinces  a  true  instinct  when  it  shows  —  as  it  always  does 
—  a  certain  distrust  of  trading  and  professional  associa- 
tions, obviously  designed  to  keep  up  the  scale  of  remu- 
neration, to  assert  corporate  rights  and  privileges,  or 
otherwise  to  protect  class  interests.  Outsiders  have  a 
suspicion  that  these  interests  are  not  necessarily  or  always 
identical  with  the  larger  interests  of  the  community. 
The  Teachers'  Guild  in  England,  we  may  confidently 
hope,  will  do  much  to  dispel  this  suspicion. 

It  cannot,  of  course,  be  doubted  that  the  creation  of  The 
a  corporate  spirit,  a  consciousness  of  brotherly  unity  C0*P°ra 
among  all  classes  of  teachers,  is  in  itself  a  worthy  object  among 
to  attain.  But  esprit  de  corps,  though  a  good  thing,  ieacAers- 
is  a  thing  of  which  one  can  easily  have  too  much, 
and  there  are  at  least  some  callings  in  which  a  body  of 
traditional  and  professional  etiquette  has  grown  up  and 
proved  to  be  rather  a  hindrance  than  a  help  to  public 
usefulness.  So,  also,  it  is  natural  that  to  some  minds  the 
great  attraction  of  a  corporate  body  like  this  is  the  hope 
that  it  holds  out  of  winning  for  the  teaching  profession 
a  higher  social  position  and  influence.  But,  after  all, 
social  status  and  influence  are  not  to  be  had  by  demand- 
ing them,  or  by  complaining  that  they  are  withheld,  but 
simply  by  deserving  them,  and  by  the  silent  and  sure 
method  of  improving  the  personal  qualifications  of  those 
who  wish  for  them.  Much  is  often  said,  too,  of  the 
importance  of  an  organization  which  will  bring  the  col- 
lective opinion  of  the  great  teaching  body  to  bear  on  the 
solution  of  public  questions,  and  enable  scholastic  author- 
ities to  speak  with  one  voice  on  points  on  which  outside 
opinion  has  to  be    formed,    and   public   measures   are 


270         Teachers'  Institutes  and  Conventions 

contemplated.  There  may,  no  doubt,  be  times  when  such 
expressions  of  opinion  are  needed;  but  they  are  rare; 
and  when  they  occur,  it  will  probably  be  found  that 
unanimity  of  judgment  is  as  little  attainable  within  the 
precincts  of  the  profession  as  without  them,  and  that  it 
is  by  the  utterances  of  a  few  of  the  wisest,  rather  than  by 
the  resolutions  of  large  bodies,  that,  in  the  long  run, 
opinion  is  formed,  great  measures  are  initiated,  and 
reforms  are  effected.  There  is,  for  example,  the  much- 
debated  question,  how  the  aid  granted  by  Parliament 
should  be  assessed,  and  on  what  conditions  it  should  be 
distributed  among  our  common  schools.  There  are  the 
relative  merits  of  inspection  and  of  examination  as  tests 
of  school  work.  These  are,  of  course,  legitimate  and 
interesting  subjects  of  public  discussion.  But,  after  all, 
they  chiefly  concern  Parliament,  which  makes  the  grant, 
and  managers,  who  receive  and  expend  it.  It  is  only  in 
a  very  limited  degree  that  these  matters  affect  those  who, 
as  members  of  the  Teachers'  Guild,  are  concerned  chiefly 
with  the  interior  work  and  efficiency  of  schools.  Under 
any  imaginable  regulations  for  dispensing  the  public 
grant,  it  will  always  be  true  that  good  teaching  is  possible, 
and  that  improvement  is  possible.  To  teachers  it  will 
ever  be  the  first  duty  to  make  the  school  efficient,  by 
bringing  to  bear  upon  it  all  their  highest  powers,  their 
widest  reading,  and  the  best  of  their  thought  and  ex- 
perience. To  examiners,  universities,  inspectors,  and 
public  authorities  who  are  called  on  to  direct  education, 
or  to  test,  or  to  criticise,  the  first  duty  is  to  be  fair  and 
just,  to  recognize  impartially  all  forms  of  good  work,  and 
to  encourage  every  honest  effort.  And  for  all  classes 
alike,  the  main  business  is  to  co-operate  cordially  in  the 
trial  of  new  experiments,  in  the  making  of  fruitful  dis- 
coveries, and  in  the  fulfilment  of  a  great  public  duty. 


The  Teachers'  Guild  271 

The  Teachers'  Guild  has  before  it,  I  believe,  a  great  The 

career  of  honour,  and  of  public  beneficence.     By  the  ^.''"',frs 

.  .  Guild. 

comprehensiveness  of  its  aim  it  may  hope  to  enlist  the 

co-operation  of  teachers  of  all  ranks,  to  break  down 
artificial  barriers,  such  as  tend  to  keep  the  labourers  in 
the  different  parts  of  the  scholastic  field  apart,  and  to 
show  that  every  true  principle  in  the  philosophy  of 
education,  when  once  understood,  is  applicable  alike  to 
all  real  teaching,  from  the  kindergarten  to  the  universities. 
By  means  of  its  libraries,  and  its  local  conferences,  as 
well  as  in  other  ways,  the  Guild  can  do  much  to  encourage 
younger  teachers  in  their  efforts  after  self-improvement, 
and  to  make  them  familiar  with  the  best  experience  of 
their  predecessors.  And  by  the  help  of  its  public  dis- 
cussions, by  the  welcome  it  gives  to  all  new  speculations, 
by  its  readiness  to  diffuse  right  principles,  it  can  help 
to  make  the  work  of  teaching  in  schools  easier,  more 
delightful,  and  more  efficient.  It  may  also  sustain,  in  the 
teaching  profession  and  out  of  it,  a  loftier  purpose,  and  a 
larger  and  nobler  ideal  than  has  ever  yet  been  realized, 
of  what  a  complete  and  generous  education  ought  to  be. 
Other  forms  of  honourable  ambition  may  yet  disclose 
themselves;  other  claims  on  public  estimation  and  grati- 
tude may  yet  be  established.  Higher  claims  it  can  never 
have.  And  it  is  only  by  stedfastly  aiming  at  the  highest 
that  the  lower  aims,  either  in  the  life  of  a  man  or  of  an 
institution,  can  be  understood  in  their  true  proportions, 
or  can  ever  be  successfully  attained. 


LECTURE    IX 

EDWARD   THRING1 

The  biographical  method  of  studying  educational  history.  Arnold 
andThring.  Outlinesof  Thring's  life.  His  biographers.  Fel- 
lowships at  King's  College,  Cambridge.  Early  practice  in  a 
National  School.  True  principles  of  teaching  applicable  to 
schools  of  all  grades.  Uppingham.  Boarding-houses.  The 
School  largely  the  product  of  private  adventure.  The  Royal 
Commissioners.  The  Hegira.  Uppingham  by  the  sea.  The 
teaching  of  English.  Every  boy  good  for  something.  Variety 
of  employment  and  of  games.  Encouragement  of  music  and 
the  fine  arts.  The  decoration  of  the  school-room.  Honour  to 
lessons.  Thring's  books.  His  fancies.  Characteristic  extracts. 
Diaries.  The  Head-Masters'  Conference.  Head-Mistresses. 
Women  as  teachers.  Settlement  at  North  Woolwich.  The 
Uppingham  School  Society.     The  prize  system. 

The  bio-  The  student  of  educational  history  and  of  the  opinions 

graphical  which  have  from  time  to  time  prevailed  respecting  the 
Studying    principles  and  methods  of  teaching  does  well  to  fasten  his 
educa-       attention  occasionally  on  the  career  of  some  representa- 
kistory.      ine  teacrier  whose  doings  and  ideas  may  be  regarded 
as  characteristic  of    the    times  in  which  he  lived,    or 
whose   personal    influence  may  have  helped   to  deter- 
mine the  course  of  thought  and  of  action  pursued  by 
other  teachers.     This  is  a  method  of  investigation  which 
has  been  adopted  with  singular  success  by  Compayr£,  by 

1  Address  before  the  College  of  Preceptors. 
272 


A  mold  a  ud  T J  wing  273 

Mr  Quick  and  by  Mr  Oscar  Browning,  and  in  Mr  Heine- 

mann's  Series  of  "Great  Educators,"  and  it  has  the  great 

advantage  of  setting  before  us,  in  a  concrete  and  personal 

form,  views  and  tendencies  which  would  otherwise  be 

less  intelligible. 

Two  names  will  always  remain  prominently  associated  Arnold 

with  the  public  school  education  in  the  England  of  the  ""/  . 

r  °  Taring. 

nineteenth  century,  those  of  Dr  Arnold  and  Edward 
Thring.  Both  men  were  educated  in  ancient  Grammar 
Schools,  steeped  in  the  traditions  of  the  'renaissance  '  — 
the  one  at  Eton  and  the  other  at  Winchester.  Both  owed 
their  best  intellectual  possessions  to  the  classical  training 
they  had  thus  received.  Yet  both  were  conscious  of  the 
defects  of  that  training,  and  each  sought  in  his  own  way 
to  enlarge  and  ennoble  the  conception  of  what  a  great 
public  school  ought  to  be;  and  while  holding  fast  to  the 
belief  that  the  study  of  the  languages  of  Greece  and 
Rome  should  form  the  staple  of  a  liberal  education,  both 
endeavoured  to  understand  the  changed  circumstances 
and  the  new  requirements  of  our  own  age,  and  to  adapt 
their  systems  of  teaching  and  discipline  to  those  require- 
ments. Both  were  characterized  by  intense  earnestness 
of  purpose,  by  profound  faith  in  the  importance  of  their 
own  office,  and  by  a  religious  consecration  of  their  best 
powers  to  the  duties  of  that  office.  But  they  differed 
greatly  in  temperament  and  in  personal  gifts;  and  also  in 
the  width  and  range  of  their  sympathies.  Arnold  was  a 
fighting  Paladin,  entering  with  ardour  into  the  political 
and  theological  controversies  of  his  time.  Both  as  a 
public  writer  and  as  Professor  of  Modern  History  at 
Oxford,  he  was  a  conspicuous  figure  in  the  world  outside 
of  Rugby.  Thring  on  the  contrary  was  identified  heart 
and  soul  with  Uppingham,  and  is  known  to  the  outer 
world  only  in  connexion  with  it  and  not  as  a  student  or 

T 


274  Edward  TJiring 


as  an  author.  All  his  literary  work  also  had  relation  to  his 
profession  as  a  schoolmaster;  and  he  is  one  of  that  small 
class  of  eminent  teachers  who  have  not  only  achieved 
practical  success,  but  have  also  written  copiously  on  the 
principles  and  practice  of  the  art  which  they  professed. 
He  never  obtained  or  sought  ecclesiastical  preferment. 

All  the  combative  powers  of  his  life  were  employed 
in  contests  with  the  governing  body  of  his  school,  with 
parents,   with  masters,   and  with   Royal    Commissions, 
and  other  public  authorities.    There  are  few  more  notable 
examples  in  the  history  of  English  public  schools,  of  the 
entire  concentration  of  all  .the  powers  and  ambition  of  a 
life  upon  one  school.     I  have  elsewhere  sought  to  esti- 
mate the  influence  of  Thomas  Arnold  1  on  education ;  and 
within  the  necessary  limit  of  one  lecture,  we  may  with 
advantage  try  to  unfold  the  reasons  why  the  name  of 
Thring  will  always  be  honourably  associated  with  his  in 
the  history  of  this  waning  century. 
Guilineof       There  is  the  less  reason  to  enter  into  general  biogra- 
Thring's    phical  detail,  because  the  story  of  his  life  has  been  written 
with  care  and  sympathy,   and  with  somewhat  unusual 
fulness  of  detail,  by  his  friend  Mr  G.  R.  Parkin;  and  has 
been  further  elucidated  in  a  volume  entitled  A  Memory 
of  Edward  Thring,  by  his  affectionate  friend  —  Mr  J. 
H.  Skrine,  at  first  a  pupil,  afterwards  a  colleague  —  as 
master  in  the  School.    Another  writer,  one  who  knew  and 
understood  him  well  —  the  Rev.  H.  D.  Rawnsley  —  has 
written  a  small  monograph  entitled    Edward  Thring, 
Teacher  and  Poet,  which  is  characterized  by  delicate 
and  just  appreciation.     All  these  books  deserve  a  perma- 
nent place  in  the  hagiology  of  the  scholastic  profession. 
It  will  therefore  suffice  for  my  present  purpose  to  assume 

1  In  "Thomas  and  Matthew  Arnold  and  their  influence  in  Eng- 
lish Education." 


Outline  of  TJiring  s  life  275 


that  their  contents  are  generally  known  and  to  recall 
here  in  briefest  summary  the  main  incidents  of  his  life. 
He  was  born  in  182 1,  and  was  the  son  of  John  (iale 
Thring,  the  Rector  and  Squire  of  the  parish  of  Alford  in 
Somersetshire.  Part  of  his  education  was  received  at 
the  small  endowed  grammar  school  at  Uminster,  and 
part  at  Eton,  where  he  became  by  the  end  of  his  school 
life  the  head  boy  of  the  Collegers,  and  Captain  of  Monten 
in  1 84 1,  nearly  the  last  year  of  that  famous  celebration. 
He  proceeded  duly  to  King's  College,  Cambridge,  gained 
the  Porson  prize  for  Greek  Iambics,  and  was  elected  a  Fellowship 
Fellow  of  the  College.  It  is  very  characteristic  of  him  at  K%nS  s' 
that,  being  a  distinguished  Etonian  and  a  Fellow  of 
King's  College,  he  was  foremost  in  denouncing  and 
in  ultimately  abolishing  a  special  privilege  to  which, 
in  accordance  with  the  traditions  of  the  University,  he  was 
entitled.  For  three  centuries,  Scholars  of  King's  had  been 
allowed  to  proceed  to  a  degree  without  examination. 
But  Thring  while  yet  in  residence  as  a  Fellow,  objected 
strongly  to  the  continuance  of  this  anomalous  and 
antiquated  usage,  and  wrote  more  than  one  pamphlet 
pointing  out  the  mischief  done  by  it  to  the  true  interests 
of  learning,  and  advocating  its  entire  abolition.  It  was 
generally  believed  that  had  he  been  subjected  to  the 
ordinary  degree  examination,  he  would  have  proved 
himself  the  most  distinguished  Classical  Scholar  of  his 
year.  His  protest  therefore  against  the  continuance  of 
the  exceptional  privilege  enjoyed  by  his  own  College 
was  all  the  more  effective.  But  Universities  are  habitu- 
ally cautious  and  conservative;  and  it  was  not  till  three 
years  after,  in  185 1,  that  the  full  consent  to  this  reform 
was  obtained  from  the  Provost  and  Fellows.  Ever  since 
the  King's  Scholars  from  Eton  have  obtained  their 
degrees,  like  other  undergraduates,  by  passing  the  ordi- 
nary examinations  of  the  University. 


276  Edward  TJiring 


In  1846  he  was  ordained,  and  took  a  curacy  in 
Gloucester,  and  after  a  short  interval,  in  which  like  Arnold 
he  was  engaged  privately  as  a  tutor  preparing  candidates 
for  the  public  schools,  he  was  appointed  in  1853  to  be 
Head  Master  of  the  School  at  Uppingham  —  an  ancient 
foundation  of  the  sixteenth  century,  with  a  modest  en- 
dowment of  less  that  ^£1000  per  annum,  which  then 
sustained  a  small  school  in  mean  and  narrow  buildings, 
with  twenty-five  boys  and  two  masters  and  very  little 
reputation.  How  in  the  course  of  thirty-four  years,  he 
contrived  to  develop  this  poor  obscure  little  institution 
into  one  of  the  most  influential  public  schools  in  England, 
with  upwards  of  three  hundred  scholars,  thirty  masters, 
eleven  boarding-houses,  a  noble  chapel  and  library,  and 
ample  equipment  for  recreation  and  teaching,  may  be 
gathered  from  the  books  I  have  named.  It  will  here 
suffice  to  refer  to  those  features  of  his  life's  work,  which 
seem  to  have  special  value  by  way  of  example  and  sug- 
gestion to  those  who  are  to  be  his  successors. 
Early  Among  these,  one  may  cite  his  earliest  experience  as 

Jl \uional a  teacher.     When  a  Curate  in  the  city  of  Gloucester  it 
School.       was  part  of  his  duty  to  teach  regularly  in  the  elementary 
school  of  the  parish;  and  he  ever  afterwards  regarded 
the  experience  thus  gained  as  the  most  important  part  of 
his  professional  training. 

"  Everything,"  he  said,  "  I  most  value  of  teaching  thought,  and 
teaching  practice,  and  teaching  experience,  came  from  this  teaching 
work  daily  in  the  National  Schools.  Never  shall  I  forget  those 
schools  in  the  suburbs  of  Gloucester,  and  their  little  class-room,  with 
its  solemn  problem,  no  more  difficult  one  in  the  world :  how  on 
earth  the  Cambridge  Honour  man,  with  his  success  and  his  brain- 
world,  was  to  get  at  the  minds  of  those  little  labourers'  sons,  with 
their  unfurnished  heads,  and  no  time  to  give.  They  gave  me  the 
great  axiom:  'The  worse  the  material,  the  greater  the  skill  of  the 
worker.'  They  called  out  the  useful  dictum  with  which  I  ever  silently 
stepped  over  the  threshold :   '  If  these  fellows  don't  learn,  it's  my 


Practice  in  a  National  School  277 

fault.'  They  disentangled  all  the  loose  threads  of  knowledge  in  my 
brain,  and  forced  me  to  wind  each  separately  in  its  place,  with  its 
beginning  and  its  end.  They  bred  in  me  a  supreme  contempt  for 
knowledge-lumps,  and  for  emptying  out  knowledge-lumps  in  a  heap, 
like  stones  at  the  roadside,  and  calling  it  teaching.  They  made  me 
hate  the  long  array  of  fine  words,  which  lesson-givers  ask,  and  pupils 
answer,  and  neither  really  know  the  meaning  of.  They  taught  me 
how  different  knowing  is  from  being  able  to  make  others  know. 
Nay,  they  taught  me  the  more  valuable  lesson  still,  how  different 
knowledge  which  can  be  produced  to  an  examiner  is  from  knowledge 
which  knows  itself,  and  understands  its  own  life  and  growth.  There 
I  learnt  the  great  secret  of  St  Augustine's  golden  key,  which,  though 
it  be  of  gold,  is  useless  unless  it  fits  the  wards  of  the  lock.  And  I 
found  the  wards  I  had  to  fit,  the  wards  of  my  lock,  which  had  to  be 
opened,  the  minds  of  those  little  street  boys,  very  queer  and  tortu- 
ous affairs  ;  and  I  had  to  set  about  cutting  and  chipping  myself  into 
the  wooden  key,  which  should  have  the  one  merit  of  a  key,  how- 
ever common  it  might  look,  the  merit  of  fitting  the  lock,  and  unlock- 
ing the  minds,  and  opening  the  shut  chambers  of  the  heart."  J 

It  may  well  be  doubted  whether  the  truth  which 
accident  thus  brought  home  to  Thring's  life- long  con- 
viction is  sufficiently  recognized  by  teachers.  We  are 
hampered  too  much  by  pedantic  attempts  at  the  exact 
delimitation  of  primary,  secondary,  and  academic  educa- 
tion. The  members  of  the  teachers'  profession  them- 
selves are  tempted  to  regard  the  practitioners  in  these 
several  departments,  as  if  they  formed  distinct  classes 
socially  and  intellectually,  having  few  or  no  common 
interests.  The  truth  is  that  the  teaching  which  seems 
lowest  and  most  elementary  requires  the  highest  gifts 
and  make  the  largest  demands  on  the  genius  and  power 
of  a  teacher.  The  ways  of  approach  to  the  intelligence, 
the  sympathies,  and  the  conscience  of  learners  may 
often  be  learned  more  thoroughly  among  those  of  the 
humblest  rank,  than  among  those  whose  standard  of  life 

1  Presidential  Address  to  the  Education  Society  in  18S6. 


278  E dzvard  T Jiving 


and  thought  is  already  determined  by  the  fact  that  they 

come  from  intelligent  homes.     And  when  right  methods 

are  discovered,  it  is  always  found  that  they  are  applicable 

to  all  grades  of  learners  alike. 

True  Thring's  personal  experience  on  this  point  throws 

!/'/'!/'fo"-sorae  ^§nt  on  a  Pr°blem  which  in  the  near  future  will 

applicable  demand  the  serious  consideration  of  educational  author- 

/"  "/      f    ities.     We  are  accustomed  to  deplore  the  mistakes  made 

grades  oj  l 

sc/wols.  by  young  assistant  masters  in  public  schools,  who  come 
fresh  from  the  Universities  and  try  their  "  prentice  hand  " 
upon  the  lower  forms,  before  attempting  to  obtain  any 
training  .or  guidance  in  the  art  of  teaching  and  even 
before  believing  that  such  training  would  be  of  any 
service  to  them.  Ere  long  we  may  hope  that  the  need 
of  systematic  preparation  for  the  schoolmaster's  work  will 
be  as  universally  recognized  in  the  upper  as  in  the  lower 
regions  of  educational  experience.  And  in  the  millen- 
nium when  this  principle  is  once  admitted  and  the  ques- 
tion arises,  "What  sort  of  training  will  best  suit  the  needs 
of  those  who  are  destined  to  be  the  teachers  in  higher 
and  intermediate  schools?"  it  will  be  seen  that  a  truly 
scientific  pedagogy  takes  little  heed  of  conventional  and 
social  distinctions,  and  does  not  care  much  to  enquire 
to  what  grade  of  schools  or  even  to  what  group  of  sub- 
jects a  teacher  intends  to  devote  himself.  Principles 
and  methods  which  are  right  in  the  primary  school,  are 
capable,  with  very  little  modification,  of  being  applied 
in  schools  of  the  highest  rank  and  pretensions.  After 
all,  natural  endowments  are  happily  to  be  found  impar- 
tially distributed  among  children  of  all  ranks.  Hence, 
the  young  graduate  fresh  from  the  contest  for  University 
honours,  who  aspires  to  the  highest  place  in  his  pro- 
fession, will  not  do  well  to  disdain  to  spend  a  little 
time  and  gather  a  little  experience  in  a  good  elementary 


Uppingham  279 

school.  He  will  there  learn  some  things  which  as  a 
form-master  at  Eton  or  Harrow  he  could  not  learn.  1  le 
will  gain  notions  respecting  organization  and  the  handling 
of  large  classes,  and  will  see  in  action  some  devices  for 
planning  lessons,  and  for  securing  attention  and  disci- 
pline, which  will  help  much  to  widen  his  own  view  of 
the  possibilities  of  his  profession,  and  to  suggest  to  him 
some  modifications  of  the  time-honoured  routine  of  a 
purely  classical  school. 

From  the  first  when  at  the  age  of  32  he  assumed  the  Upping- 
ferule  at  Uppingham  he  formed  a  very  clear  conception 
of  the  work  of  a  public  school,  and  determined  to  make 
Uppingham  in  some  respects  an  example  of  what  such  a 
school  should  be.  He  thought  that  most  of  the  schools  of 
the  highest  rank  were  too  large;  and  that  consequently 
due  regard  to  the  character  and  needs  of  the  individual 
scholar  was  impossible  in  them.  He  regarded  300  as 
the  maximum  number  for  such  a  school,  and  he  reso- 
lutely resisted  all  temptation  to  exceed  320.  Up  to  this 
number,  every  boy  added  to  the  efficiency  of  the  school, 
but  beyond  this  number  he  deemed  every  additional  pupil 
was  a  drag  and  a  hindrance  and  rendered  it  less  possible 
for  the  masters  to  know  and  study  special  capabilities. 
This  maximum  was  reached  in  1865,  when  he  had  been  in 
office  eleven  years.  "  I  have  no  right,"  he  said,  "  to  take 
a  boy  away  from  his  parents  and  accept  the  responsibility 
of  training  him  unless  I  can  know  him  well."  "A  mob 
of  boys  cannot  be  educated."  "Every  boy  should  feel 
that  he  is  known."  For  this  reason  he  also  desired  to 
limit  the  number  of  boarders  in  any  house  to  thirty. 
This  rule  was  very  unwelcome  to  some  of  his  masters, 
seeing  that  they  derived  their  chief  income  from  the 
boarding  fees,  and  it  served  as  an  occasion  for  some 
friction  between  him  and  his  staff.     His  diary,  Nov.  3, 


280  Edward  Thring 


houses. 


1874,  contains  this  entry:  "I  said  to  the  masters  that 
nothing  would  induce  me  to  admit  an  extra  boy  in  any 
house.  This  last  I  think  most  of;  because  I  feel  sure 
that  my  work  here  will  be  overthrown  on  this  very  point 
of  numbers,  and  I  am  glad  therefore  of  every  opportunity 
of  bearing  witness  to  my  conviction  that  it  is  destruc- 
tion of  all  my  work." 
Boarding-  In  fact  the  conditions  under  which  the  masters  were 
appointed  were  not  without  danger.  His  colleagues  were 
not  salaried  assistants,  but  men  who  possessed  capital 
and  had  been  invited  by  him  to  invest  considerable  sums 
in  the  building  of  boarding-houses,  and  to  contribute 
liberally  to  the  general  equipment  and  development  of 
the  school.  They  were  thus  not  only  assistant  masters, 
but  partners  in  a  commercial  venture.  Probably  this  was 
the  only  way  in  which  Thring  could  realize  his  ideal  in  a 
school  with  a  small  endowment,  an  apathetic  governing 
body,  and  no  great  traditions  or  repute.  But  it  was  not 
a  good  way;  and  the  fact  that  he  was  obliged  to  adopt 
it,  illustrates  a  weak  point  in  the  polity  of  many  of  our 
public  schools.  The  masters  look  to  the  profits  on 
boarders  as  their  chief  source  of  revenue ;  their  pecuniary 
success  depends  at  least  as  much  on  their  skill  as  caterers 
and  lodging-house  keepers  as  on  their  gifts  and  powers 
as  teachers.  The  fact  that  they  have  invested  money  in 
a  private  enterprise  gives  them  a  vested  interest;  and 
makes  it  very  difficult  to  dismiss  them  if  they  prove 
educationally  incompetent.  It  is  manifest  that  these  are 
conditions  which  might  prove  highly  unfavourable  to  the 
interests  of  a  school.  Boarding-houses  should  be  the 
property  of  the  school  governors,  and  the  masters  should 
be  tenants  merely  holding  office  quamdiu  se  bene gesserint, 
their  tenure  being  dependent  on  their  proved  fitness  and 
personal  influence  as  teachers,   and  not  on  any   other 


Boa  rding-houses  281 

consideration.  This  arrangement  was  impossible  at 
Uppingham,  owing  to  the  special  circumstances  of  its 
history  and  resources,  and  to  the  financial  risks  which 
his  colleagues  had  incurred.  But  the  readers  of  Thring's 
diary  will  be  made  painfully  aware  that  his  relations  to 
those  colleagues  were  often  seriously  complicated  by  the 
conditions  under  which  he  was  obliged  to  work,  and  by 
the  fact  that  notwithstanding  the  pains  he  took  to  select 
as  colleagues,  men  in  sympathy  with  his  own  aims,  and 
qualified  by  character  and  enthusiasm,  their  personal 
interests  were  not  always  identical  with  what  he  thought 
to  be  the  interests  of  the  school,  or  with  the  fulfilment  of 
his  own  most  cherished  ideal.  The  truth  is  that  Upping- 
ham School  as  we  now  know  it  occupies  the  unusual 
position  of  a  public  institution  that  has  largely  grown  out 
of  a  private  enterprise. 

In  a  letter  to  Lord  Lyttelton  quoted  by  Mr  Parkin  The  school 
the  head-master  says  truly:1  "Other  schools  have  as  thev^;'»'/-''//'t'- 

J  J  J  product  oj 

grew,  and  it  became  possible  to  do  so,  employed  private  private 
property  gradually,  and  when  any  large  sum  has  been  ^venture. 
thus  invested,  the  expenditure  has  been  spread  over 
several  generations  and  most  of  the  original  contributors 
are  in  their  graves.  But  Uppingham  is  an  instance  of  a 
special  school  system,  based  on  most  distinct  principles, 
being  begun  when  a  school  was  at  its  lowest  ebb,  carried 
out  steadily  through  adversity  and  prosperity,  till  all  the 
educational  work  has  practically  become  quite  indepen- 
dent of  any  necessity  of  foundation  aid,  though  for 
reasons  other  than  pecuniary,  such  aid  seems  to  me  very 
important.  The  work  too  has  been  done  in  one  gener- 
ation, and  the  men  still  live  whose  property  and  lives 
have  been  thus  contributed  to  the  work,  when  most  unex- 

1  Parkin's  Life  of  Edward  Thring,  Vol.  I.  p.  1S0. 


282  Edward  7 living 


pectedly  Government  steps  forward  to  deal  with  the  ques- 
tion." It  is  not  wonderful  that  Thring  should  regard 
the  legislation  of  1S69  as  mischievous,  or  at  least  inop- 
portune, although  the  revelations  made  by  the  previous 
Commission  of  Inquiry  showed  tne  absolute  need  for  such 
legislation,  in  the  case  of  scores  of  decaying  and  worth- 
less educational  endowments  in  all  parts  of  the  country. 
But  the  case  of  Uppingham  was  wholly  exceptional.  In 
one  sense  it  was  virtually  a  proprietary  school,  owing 
its  creation  to  the  genius  and  courage  of  one  man  and 
to  the  capital  and  the  personal  efforts  of  his  partners  and 
himself.1  It  owed  little  to  the  accident  of  its  possessing 
a  small  endowment,  an  ancient  foundation,  a  pious 
founder,  and  an  external  governing  body.  With  these 
alone,  it  might  have  long  remained  an  obscure  little 
country  grammar  school  of  the  second  or  third  rank. 
Yet  these  were  the  circumstances  which  brought  the 
foundation  within  the  purview  of  the  Endowed  Schools 
Act,  and  gave  to  it  its  only  chance  of  recognition  among 
the  historical  public  schools  of  England. 
Royal  Thring's  mistake  lay  in  the  supposition  that  he  could 

Commis-  secure  at  the  same  time  for  himself  all  die  prestige  and 
influence  of  a  great  public  institution,  and  all  the  freedom 
and  independence  of  a  private  schoolmaster  carrying  on 
a  commercial  venture  of  his  own.  He  did  not  consider 
that  if  Uppingham  had  been  merely  the  product  of  his 
own  enterprise  and  that  of  his  friends,  it  would  have  been 
untouched  by  legislation  or  by  the  Royal  Commission. 
He  would  have  been  perfectly  free  to  carry  out  his  own 
plans,  to  be  the  chief  manager  of  a  joint-stock  establish- 

1  A  document  prepared  by  the  assistant-masters  for  the  informa- 
tion of  the  Commissioners  stat  d,  that  "  of  the  present  school-build- 
ings the  Trust  has  contributed  8|  per  cent.,  and  Mr  Thring  and  his 
masters  91  j  per  cent." 


sions. 


Royal  Commissions  283 

merit  which  at  his  death  might  become  extinct,  or  be 
sold  in  the  market.  But  it  could  not  then  have  aspired 
to  become,  what  in  fact  he  contrived  to  make  it,  a  public 
school.  Yet  all  his  life  he  chafed  under  the  restrictions 
imposed  by  his  Board  of  Governors,  the  requirements 
of  Commissioners,  and  the  supposed  intentions  of  the 
Endowed  Schools  Act,  some  of  which  he  did  not  even 
take  the  pains  to  understand.  Yet  these  were  the 
only  conditions  under  which  the  great  ambition  of 
his  life  could  possibly  be  fulfilled.  He  never  ceased  to 
denounce  the  "dead  hand  of  outside  power  thrust  into 
the  heart-strings  of  a  living  work."  Speaking  of  the 
Schools  Inquiry  Commission  he  said:  "How  ridiculous 
it  will  seem  in  years  to  come  appointing  a  lot  of  squires 
and  a  stray  lord  or  two  to  gather  promiscuous  evidence 
on  an  intricate  professional  question,  and  sum  up,  and 
pronounce  an  infallible  judgment  upon  it.  However, 
this  is  the  English  panacea  now, —  this  witches'  caldron, 
and  small  hope  it  gives."  *  *  "I  claim  that  the  skilled 
workers,  each  in  his  own  trade,  shall  be  well  represented 
in  the  management  of  the  trade  and  not  interfered  with 
by  external  unintelligent  power  in  carrying  on  the  trade."  x 
That  a  strong  and  sensitive  man,  conscious  of  power, 
justly  proud  of  the  success  he  had  achieved,  and  confident 
in  himself  and  in  the  principles  on  which  he  had  acted, 
should  thus  feel  a  distrust  of  all  outside  educational 
authority,  is  intelligible  enough.  He  was  wholly  out  of 
sympathy  with  all  modern  movements  for  the  legal 
organization  of  secondary  education  and  for  the  exami- 
nation and  inspection  of  schools  by  public  authority. 
All  such  expedients  appeared  to  him  to  restrict  harmfully 
the  lawful  liberty  of  the  teacher.     But  he  left  out  of  view 

1  Letter  to  Lord  Lyttelton,  December  6,  1872. 


284  Edward  Thring 


other  considerations  not  less  important.  Country  gentle- 
men and  members  of  Parliament  have  after  all  some 
interest  in  the  efficiency  of  national  education,  and  are 
competent  to  form  some  judgment  on  the  feelings  and 
wishes  of  parents  and  on  the  educational  needs  of  the 
community.  A  man  need  not  be  a  tailor,  to  know 
whether  his  coat  fits  and  is  well  made  or  not.  Nor  is  it 
necessary  to  be  a  schoolmaster,  in  order  to  be  a  valuable 
member  of  the  governing  body  of  a  school.  If  all  schools 
were  like  Uppingham  there  would  be  little  or  no 'need 
for  legal  control;  but  for  the  rank  and  file  of  teachers 
and  of  schools,  all  the  accumulated  testimony  served  to 
show  that  some  such  control  is  salutary.  Moreover,  the 
extent  and  nature  of  this  control  were  carefully  restricted. 
There  is  no  conclusion  on  which  the  members  of  Royal 
Commissions  have  been  more  decided,  than  that  it 
was  the  business  of  trustees  to  elect  the  best  man  they 
could  obtain,  and  that  having  got  him  they  should  trust 
him  and  leave  him  practically  responsible  and  unfettered. 
Indeed  every  scheme  issued  by  the  Commissioners  under 
the  Endowed  Schools  Act  contains  the  distinct  provision 
that  "the  Head  Master  shall  have  under  his  control  the 
method  of  teaching,  the  arrangement  of  classes  and 
school  hours,  and  generally  the  whole  internal  organiza- 
tion, management,  and  discipline  of  the  school,  and  shall 
have  authority  over  all  scholars  attending  the  same  in  all 
places  and  at  all  times  during  the  school  terms."  All 
experience  proves  that  under  these  provisions,  the  head- 
masters of  endowed  schools  enjoy  much  more  of  prac- 
tical independence,  than  the  proprietors  of  private 
schools  whose  only  concern  is  to  satisfy  the  parents  of 
their  scholars. 
The  One  memorable  incident  in  the  history  of  the  school 

illustrates  well  the  masterfulness  and  courage  as  well  as 


The  flight  to  Borth  285 


the  administrative  skill  which  distinguished  Thring.  All 
was  going  well  in  1875;  difficulties  —  financial  and  other 
—  had  been  overcome,  the  school  was  full,  and  was  becom- 
ing recognized  as  the  pioneer  of  a  new  era  in  public  edu- 
cation; but  in  the  autumn  symptoms  of  serious  illness 
began  to  appear,  many  boys  sickened  and  three  died  of 
what  proved  to  be  typhoid  fever.  It  was  evident  that 
the  drainage  of  the  town,  which  had  been  greatly  neglected 
by  the  local  authorities,  was  responsible  for  the  epidemic, 
and  the  boys  were  hastily  dismissed  early  in  November. 
For  three  months  the  unwonted  vacation  lasted,  and 
during  this  time  some  more  or  less  futile  efforts  were 
made,  though  reluctantly,  by  the  ratepayers,  to  improve 
the  sanitary  condition  of  the  town.  At  the  end  of  the 
next  January  the  school  re-assembled,  but  in  less  than  a 
month  the  danger  re-appeared  and  the  final  dispersal  of 
the  scholars  and  the  financial  ruin  of  the  house  masters 
seemed  to  be  imminent;  when  Thring  promptly  took  his 
staff  into  council,  and  said  to  them  boldly,  "  We  cannot 
stay  here,  we  must  flit."  One  of  them,  Mr  J.  H.  Skrine, 
writing  long  after,  said :  — 

"  Reader,  you  perhaps  have  never  spent  four  or  five  months 
watching  your  fortunes  crumble  to  pieces,  while  you  asked  help  of 
local  authorities  and  got  vituperation,  while  at  the  doors  of  metro- 
politan departments  you  waited  on  the  law's  delays  ;  while  scrib- 
blers in  county  journals  vented  an  ancient  spleen  in  rancid  jokes, 
and  you  bit  your  tongue,  while  you  could  neither  do  anything  nor 
make  others  do  it,  though  a  child  could  see  what  wanted  doing,  but 
must  dangle  about  in  melancholy  malodorous  streets,  or  daily  tramp 
to  the  '  borings'  for  news  of  clean  water,  to  be  daily  disappointed; 
and  all  this  hateful  while  must  watch  an  inglorious  ruin  drawing 
nearer  and  nearer  for  hopes  to  which  men  had  given  the  best  of  a 
life.  Why  then  you  may  hardly  guess,  with  what  a  bound  of  spirit 
we  sprang  at  something  to  do."  1 


1  J.  II.  Skrine,  p.  177. 


286  Edward  Thring 


Upping-  With  the  alacrity  and  promptitude  of  a  soldier,  Thring 

the  Sea.  at  once  prepared  his  plan,  "  I  want  to  dismiss  the  school 
for  a  three  weeks'  holiday  and  then  call  it  together  on 
some  healthy  spot,  by  the  sea  \i  possible,  which  we  must 
find  and  get  ready  for  them  in  that  time.  You  all  see  the 
risks  and  responsibilities  of  the  venture.  Will  you  take 
them  ?  "  And  all  the  members  of  his  loyal  staff  responded 
"Aye."  Fortunately  a  little  village  was  found  on  the 
Cardiganshire  coast,  with  a  big  empty  hctsl,  and  some 
unused  lodging-houses.  Thither  he  decided  to  flee. 
Ten  days  later  a  goods'  train  unloaded  there  the  belong- 
ings of  three  hundred  boys,  as  well  as  of  thirty  masters 
and  their  families,  and  in  a  few  days  all  the  needful 
furniture  and  equipment  of  a  school  were  added,  so  that 
at  the  end  of  the  prescribed  three  weeks,  all  was  ready 
for  opening  and  the  exodus  was  an  accomplished  fact. 
"  You  are  on  a  campaign,"  he  said  to  the  boys,  "  and  must 
play  the  soldier  and  put  up  with  hardship  without 
grumble.  Remember  you  are  making  history.  This  is  a 
great  experiment,  and  perhaps  others  will  some  day  imi- 
tate it.  Shew  them  how  to  do  it  ! "  Hazardous  as  the 
experiment  was  it  proved  to  be  signally  successful.  The 
boys  were  loyally  determined  to  adapt  themselves  to 
their  new  circumstances.  Parents  were  stedfast  and 
sympathetic,  so  that  hardly  one  pupil  was  withdrawn, 
and  Thring  himself  rejoiced  to  find  in  the  moun- 
tains and  the  sea,  and  the  large  liberty  which  could  be 
enjoyed  on  this  remote  coast,  new  educational  resources, 
of  which  he  availed  himself  to  the  utmost.  Out  of  the 
nettle  danger,  he  like  many  another  brave  spirit  contrived 
to  pluck  the  flower  safety.  His  exhilaration  expressed 
itself  in  a  characteristic  manner  in  certain  "  Borth  lyrics." 
Here  is  a  stanza  from  one  of  them :  — 


Uppingham  by  the  Sea  287 


"  East  ami  West  and  North  and  South, 
As  if  we  were  shot  from  a  cannon's  mouth. 
Hurrah,  Hurrah,  here  we  all  are, 
Never  was  heard  in  peace  or  war, 

The  first  in  the  world  are  we. 
Never,  oh  never,  was  heard  before, 
Since  a  ball  was  a  ball 
And  a  wall  a  wall, 
And  a  boy  to  play  was  free, 
That  a  school  as  old  as  an  old  oak  tree, 
Fast  by  the  roots  was  flung  up  in  the  air, 
Up  in  the  air  without  thought  or  care, 
And  pitched  on  its  feet  by  the  sea,  the  sea, 
Pitched  on  its  feet  by  the  sea." 

"  So  Uppingham  was  left,  and  faces  were  set  towards  Borth. 
At  Borth,  of  course,  everyone  was  on  the  qui  vive  about  the  strange 
colony  that  was  coming  in  so  suddenly  in  this  rolling  lump.  Very 
kind  and  very  willing  was  the  reception  given  by  the  little  village 
to  the  school  pioneers;  and  right  well  they  worked.  Workers, 
indeed,  were  wanted,  for,  if  anyone  wishes  for  a  new  experience, 
let  him  try  the  unloading  and  re-arranging  eighteen  railway  trucks, 
and  the  distribution  of  their  contents  among  twelve  or  fourteen 
houses  in  a  fierce  match  against  time.  This  was  all  done  ami 
finished  off  between  Tuesday,  28th  March,  and  Tuesday,  4th  April. 
The  great  hotel  was  arranged  to  receive  150  boys,  the  head-master 
and  his  family,  an  assistant-master,  and  two  matrons.  A  row  of 
lodging-houses  flanking  the  hotel  take  another  150  boys,  and  most 
of  the  masters;  long  narrow  tables  are  run  down  the  hotel  passage 
on  the  ground  floor,  the  large  coffee-rooms  and  the  billiard-room 
below  are  treated  in  the  same  way,  and  350  people  —  boys,  masters 
and  masters'  families  —  dine  at  one  time  by  this  extemporized  ar- 
rangement. Twenty-seven  lodging-houses  in  all,  and  a  large  public 
hall,  have  been  secured  for  school  use.  A  room,  83  feet  by  20  feet, 
is  being  put  up  of  rough  shingle  behind  the  hotel,  in  order  to  hold 
the  whole  school  when  needed.  The  stables  are  turned  into  the 
school  carpentry,  the  large  coach-house  shed  into  a  gymnasium  ; 
a  lavatory,  with  thirty  basins,  is  being  roughly  put  up;  and  al- 
together the  school  has  shaken  into  place  and  got  its  working 
machinery  in  most  unexpectedly  good  order.  A  beach,  4  milts 
long,  with  splendid  sands,  stretches  away  in  front  of  the  hotel,  with 


288  Edivard  Thring 


plenty  of  pebbles,  and  the  sea  to  throw  them  into.  An  aquarium 
will  be  started  this  week.  An  octopus,  most  liberal  of  its  sepia, 
has  been  already  caught.  The  beach  is  closed  on  the  south  by  the 
hills,  on  the  north  by  the  river  Dovey  and  the  hills  beyond  it. 
These  hills  seem  to  form  an  amphitheatre  behind,  round  a  broad 
stretch  of  peat  which  lies  between  them  and  the  sea.  The  views 
are  lovely,  and  the  place  is  suggestive  of  shells  and  aquariums  and 
sea-birds  in  front,  and  of  botany  and  rambles  in  the  rear,  while 
Aberystwith,  with  a  railway  running  to  it,  forms  a  good  base  of 
operations  for  the  colony  to  shop  in  and  fall  back  on.  Cricket  goes 
on  on  the  sand  in  a  bay,  and  an  excellent  field,  unfortunately  4  miles 
off,  but  on  the  railway,  has  been  secured  for  half-holiday  practice 
and  matches.  Everybody,  high  and  low  alike,  has  given  ready  help 
and  welcome.  The  Bishop  of  St  David's,  who  owns  some  land  near 
the  hotel,  has  allowed  the  school  to  have  what  they  want  for  cricket 
there,  if  practicable  ;  so  Uppingham  by  the  Sea  can  do  something 
besides  throwing  stones  into  the  water.  One  short  week  saw  this 
all  done.  It  was  like  shaking  the  alphabet  in  a  bag,  and  bringing 
out  the  letters  into  words  and  sentences,  such  was  the  sense  of  abso- 
lute confusion  turned  into  intelligent  shape."  l 

"  There  are  many  of  the  old  resources  at  Borth,  but,  whatsoever 
pastime  may  flourish  or  languish  transplanted  to  this  strange  soil, 
there  are  two  sources  of  enjoyment  unfailing  here,  unknown  to  the 
school  in  its  Midland  home  —  the  mountains  and  the  sea.  The  boys 
wander  out  from  the  hotel  doors,  swarming  like  bees  round  a  bee- 
hive, down  to  the  broad  reach  of  shingle  and  sand.  Tea  is  over, 
and  all  the  school  is  flocking  to  enjoy  the  sunset  and  watch  the 
rising  tide.  They  are  doing  what  boys  always  do  on  the  sea-shore 
—  dodging  the  waves,  hurling  pebbles  at  them  as  they  come  in, 
burrowing  in  the  sand  for  shells,  cracking  stones  in  the  vain  hope 
of  finding  jewels  inside,  or  poring  over  the  wooden  reefs  that  rise  so 
strangely  from  the  sand,  as  the  tide  is  not  yet  up  —  the  long-buried 
fragments,  so  says  the  legend,  of  the  lost  Lowland  Hundred.  Those 
clear  colours  in  the  west  where  the  sun  sets  in  the  sea,  the  rippling 
light  beneath  the  clouds,  the  scattered  groups  of  figures  moving  in 
the  twilight  somewhat  darkly,  with  a  pleasant  freshness  of  boyhood 
all  round,  form  a  scene  not  easily  forgotten.  The  dusky  headlands 
stand  out  to  seaward,  with  a  white  gleaming  of  broken  waves  at 

1  Thring's  own  account  in  the  Times  newspaper  quoted  by  Parkin, 
II.  p.  49. 


Borth  289 

their  feet  ;  and  landward  shadowy  mountains  beyond  the  purple  still 
catch  a  little  glory  from  the  sun.  The  low  talk  of  pensive  strollers, 
the  rattle  of  pebbles,  the  laughter  of  those  who  chase  each  other  in 
merry  vein,  all  mixed  with  the  roar  of  the  sea,  and  perchance  some 
strains  of  music  from  the  choir  at  practice  thrown  in,  give  sights  and 
sounds  that  may  make  the  school,  if  not  unfaithful  to  Uppingham  it 
has  left,  yet  more  than  half-reconciled  to  the  new  land. 

"  New,  indeed,  and  strange  enough  it  all  is.  The  whole  scene 
and  circumstances,  both  in  and  out  of  doors,  have  to  be  re-adapted 
to  the  old  familiar  work  in  unfamiliar  ways.  A  partial  shaking 
down  has  been  accomplished;  and,  as  if  to  make  the  first  week 
truly  represent  the  old  school  life,  the  last  football  match  of  the 
season,  a  broken-off  fragment  of  the  Uppingham  left  behind,  was 
played  out  on  the  Saturday  half-holiday;  and  the  champion  cup  of 
the  year  awarded  to  the  winners.  So  the  jerseys,  white  or  red,  met 
in  their  mimic  war  in  the  new  land.  Thus  ended  the  first  week, 
and  its  evening  closed  on  a  quiet  scene  of  school  routine;  as  if 
doubt,  and  risk,  and  turmoil,  and  confusion,  and  fear,  weary  head 
and  weary  hand,  had  not  been  known  in  the  place.  The  wrestling 
match  against  time  was  over,  and  happy  dreams  came  down  on 
Uppingham  by  the  Sea."  l 

The  stay  at  Borth,  though  occasioned  by  a  misfortune, 
brought  many  compensations  with  it.  It  lasted  more 
than  a  year,  since  Thring  steadily  refused  to  return  until 
every  precaution  was  taken  against  a  recurrence  of 
disease.  It  is  true  he  had  little  or  no  help  or  sympathy 
from  the  Governors.  But  the  whole  dramatic  incident 
tested  the  fidelity  of  his  colleagues,  find  the  confidence 
of  the  boys  and  their  parents  in  the  courage  and  wis- 
dom of  the  Head  Master.  It  interfered  very  little  with  the 
course  of  instruction,  and  opened  out  new  sources  of 
interest  and  new  fields  of  experience  both  to  scholars 
and  teachers.  Moreover  it  added  a  new  and  picturesque 
chapter  to  the  school's  history — one  of  which  Uppingham 
boys  will  long  be  proud.  Every  school  is  the  richer  for 
possessing  great  and  interesting  traditions,  and  the  flight 

1  Parkin's  Life,  II.  50. 

u 


290  Edzvard  Thring 


for  life  to  Uppingham  by  the  Sea  will  always  remain 
memorable  in  the  school  annals.  Mr  Skrine,  one  of 
Thring' s  most  constant  and  loyal  helpers,  has  told  the 
story  with  a  simplicity  and  a  charm  which  leave  nothing 
to  be  desired,  and  from  it,  it  must  here  suffice  to  take 
one  characteristic  extract :  — 

"We  returned  to  Uppingham  in  May,  1877,  fourteen  months 
after  our  exodus*.  We  came  back  to  an  Uppingham  much  changed, 
above  ground  as  well  as  under.  Distance  had  lent  us  endearment, 
and  our  re-entry  was  an  ovation.  The  horses  were  unyoked  from 
the  coaches  outside  the  town,  and  the  freight  of  boys,  hauled  by  the 
hands  of  townsmen  up  the  street,  under  triumphal  arches  of  greenery, 
enscrolled  with  mottoes  of  welcome  and  union.  An  address  of 
sympathy  was  presented  to  the  head-master  and  his  staff,  in'  an 
historic  scene  now  blazoned  on  the  great  window  of  the  school-room 
under  which  it  was  enacted."  l 

"  Salt  and  sand  and  rocking  wave, 
Salt  and  sand  and  sky, 
All  ye  had  to  give,  ye  gave, 
But  good  bye,  good  bye. 
*         *         *         * 
Grey  old  school  house  consecrate 

On  thy  hill  afar; 
Chapel  keeping  solemn  state  — 
Home,  we  go,  hurrah  ! 
Hey  the  robin,  the  lark,  and  the  green,  green  grass, 

And  the  ivy  that  clings  to  the  wall; 
Hey  the  robin,  the  lark,  and  the  green,  green  grass, 
And  the  oak  and  the  ash-tree  tall."2 

His  One  characteristic  distinguishing  his  language  teach- 

language    -ng  from  tjiat  0f  most  of  his  contemporaries,   was  his 

insistence  on  the  value  of  English  Grammar  as  the  basis 

of  philology.     While  finding  his  highest  ideal  of  training 

1  A  Memory  of  Edward  Hiring,  p.  618. 

2  Borth  Lyrics. 


Teaching  of  English  291 


as  distinguished  from  mere  instruction,  in  a  thorough 
grounding  in  Greek  and  Latin,  he  believed  that  the 
fundamental  laws  of  human  speech  admitted  of  ample 
illustration  in  the  study  of  our  own  vernacular,  especially 
when  treated  analytically.  So  early  as  1852  he  published 
a  Child's  Grammar,  which  is  an  excellent  example  of 
the  inductive  method  applied  to  the  elements  of  English. 
Instead  of  beginning  with  an  array  of  vowels  and  con- 
sonants, and  with  definitions  of  parts  of  speech,  he  takes 
first  a  simple  sentence  consisting  of  nothing  but  a  subject 
and  a  predicate,  helps  the  scholar  to  recognize  them  as 
the  necessary  elements  in  all  sentences,  and  then  pro- 
ceeds to  add  others,  e.g.  the  preposition,  'case-link,' 
moods,  tenses,  inflections  and  amplifications,  illustrating 
each  by  examples.  He  thought  that  the  principles  of  all 
grammar  should  be  first  taught  in  connexion  with  our 
mother  tongue,  and  should  afterwards  be  shown,  by  con- 
stant comparison  of  idioms  and  constructions,  to  be 
illustrated  in  Latin  and  Greek.  To  many  members  of 
his  staff  accustomed  to  the  traditional  method  of  teaching 
the  Latin  grammar  by  way  of  synthesis,  beginning  with 
rules  and  definitions,  Thring's  notions  seemed  to  be 
flat  heresy,  and  were  highly  unwelcome.  One  of  his  best 
masters  speaks  contemptuously  of  his  'appalling  system 
of  analysis  '  with  its  unfamiliar  terminology. 

Yet,    in  the  main,   Thring  was  right.     "  Rules  and  The 

terms,"  he  said,  "which  are  not  thoroughly  understood te£chl;?$ °J 
.      .  English. 

in  principle  first,   may  seem  to  be  knowledge  but  are 

barriers."  What  he  called  'sentence  anatomy '  was  in  fact 
an  elementary  lesson  in  the  philosophy  of  language,  and 
once  learned  in  the  investigation  and  comparison  of 
English  sentences,  was  found  to  tell  on  Latin  and  Greek 
lessons  in  an  unexpected  way.  English  grammar  to  him 
meant  "common  sense  applied  to  language."     He  saw 


292  Edward  Thring 

with  more  clearness  than  most  contemporary  teachers, 
the  importance  of  a  thorough  study  of  the  mother  tongue, 
and  he  lamented  the  neglect  into  which  that  study  had 
fallen  in  some  of  our  public  schools.  In  German  and 
in  French  colleges  and  schools  of  the  highest  rank, 
discipline  in  the  structure,  history,  and  right  use  of  the 
vernacular  speech  receives  far  more  attention  than  in 
our  own.  The  common  assumption  that  the  classically 
trained  boy  has  learned  English  indirectly  and  inci- 
dentally, through  the  medium  of  his  Latin  and  Greek 
studies,  and  need  not  attend  much  to  English,  per  se, 
is  not  found  to  be  verified  by  experience.  It  is  not 
unfrequently  observed  that  when  youths  educated  in 
public  schools  offer  themselves  as  candidates  for  admis- 
sion to  the  public  service,  their  performances  are  marred 
by  gaucherie,  by  bad  spelling  and  writing,  by  false  and 
confused  metaphors,  by  colloquialisms  and  slang,  and 
by  that  most  offensive  of  all  slang,  the  use  of  pretentious 
words  and  phrases,  the  exact  meaning  of  which  is  only 
imperfectly  understood.  To  whom  ought  we  to  look 
except  to  those  who  have  had  the  advantage  of  a  liberal 
education,  to  be  the  chief  guardians  of  the  purity  of 
our  native  language,  and  exemplars  of  accuracy  without 
pedantry  and  ease  without  slovenliness?  Yet  at  present 
there  is  much  to  be  desired,  in  this  respect,  even  in 
schools  and  colleges  of  the  highest  standing.  On  this 
point  Thring  was  wont  to  dwell  with  much  emphasis. 
For  example,  in  his  address  to  the  Education  Society,  of 
which  he  was  President,  he  said:  — 

"  Make  every  child  master  of  the  one  instrument  by  which  all 
human  life  moves, —  speech,  the  mother  tongue.  The  moment 
grammar  is  dealt  with  as  thought  working  into  words,  and  using 
the  word-creations  it  gives  birth  to  and  making  them  live,  instead 
of  as  a  kind  of  strait-waistcoat  to  pinch  thought  into  shape,  a  new 


Every  boy  good  for  something  293 

world  is  opened.  If  grammar  is  only  thought  taking  shape,  gram- 
mar is  already  in  the  mind,  waiting  to  be  called  out.  And  it  can 
be  called  out  without  any  book  work  by  a  good  teacher.  A  class 
can  be  made  to  frame  its  own  rules  by  a  little  questioning." 

He  was  fastidious  about  the  perfection  of  style  in  all 
translations  into  English;  but  although  his  methods  did 
not  succeed  in  teaching  to  write  the  very  best  Latin  and 
Greek  prose  or  verse  such  as  a  classical  examiner  desires, 
"they  did  teach  us,"  as  one  of  his  best  pupils  acknow- 
ledged, "how  to  exert  our  minds  in  attempting  it."  To 
English  composition  practised  f>ari  passu  with  compo- 
sition in  an  ancient  language  he  assigned  an  unusually 
high  place  in  his  curriculum. 

Another  marked  characteristicof  Thring  was  his  belief  Every  boy 
that  "every  boy  is  good  for  something."     "There  is  n°s°JzJhine- 
such  thing  in  the  world,"  he  used  to  say,  "as  a  good-for- 
nothing  boy." 

"  There  is  some  soul  of  goodness  in  things  evil, 
Would  men  observingly  distil  it  out." 

and  the  way  to  'distil  it  out '  was  in  his  opinion  to 
discover  as  many  chances  as  possible  of  doing  right  and 
to  put  them  in  the  way  of  each  scholar,  for  his  voluntary 
choice.  He  had,  it  was  said,  a  power  of  finding  where 
the  spark  of  fire  lay  hid  in  the  coarsest  human  clay. 
He  had  in  fact  the  prime  requisite  of  a  schoolmaster  — 
the  faith  that  even  in  the  least  promising  and  least  inter- 
esting scholar,  there  was  a  power  for  good  which  ought 
to  find  exercise,  and  which  it  was  the  business  of  the 
teacher  to  discover.1  Hence  large  freedom  for  special 
aptitudes  and  tastes  were  offered  to  boys  both  in  work 
and  in  play.  As  to  school  work,  the  staple  of  instruction 
in  the  humanities  occupied  the  morning,  beginning  at  7 
and  ending  at  12;  but  for  the  rest  of  the  day  provision 

1  See  ante,  p.  109. 


294  Edward  TJiring 


was  made  for  mathematics,  for  drawing,  for  chemistry, 
for  French  and  German,  for  physical  science  or  for  music ; 
and  among  these,  options  were  freely  permitted.  No 
attempt  was  made  to  fix  the  choice,  and  no  one  was 
expected  to  care  for  all  these  subjects;  but  every  one 
was  expected  to  care  about  something. 
Variety  of  Herein,  I  think  Thring  laid  hold  of  a  sound  principle, 
employ-      an(j  established  a  precedent  which  might  well  be  more 

ment,  L  ° 

generally  followed.  A  modern  teacher  is  apt  to  be 
distracted  by  the  importunate  claims  of  new  subjects  for 
recognition  as  part  of  the  ordinary  school  course.  He 
fears  to  overweight  his  time-table  and  his  curriculum. 
He  rightly  desires  to  give  fair  scope  to  the  abilities  of 
scholars  who  have  different  aptitudes  and  who  are  looking 
forward  to  different  destinations.  But  he  also  sees  the 
danger  of  wasting  his  resources,  and  sacrificing  the  unity 
of  his  school  by  encouraging  too  much  and  too  early 
specialization.  At  Uppingham  an  attempt  was  made  to 
solve  the  difficulty  by  adopting  this  rule:  —  Adhere  reso- 
lutely, and  for  all  scholars  alike,  to  the  one  course  of 
formative  studies,  which  experience  has  shown  to  be  the 
best  for  the  general  development  of  the  intellectual 
character.  Devote  the  best  part  of  every  day  to  these 
studies.  But  provide  what  Americans  call  'elective 
studies  '  and  occupations  to  meet  the  special  wants  of 
individual  pupils.  In  no  other  way  can  you  hope  to 
do  justice  to  varied  personal  gifts,  and  to  give  every 
boy  a  chance  of  developing  what  is  best  in  him. 

and  of  The  same  principle  applies  to  games  and  recreations. 

games.  There  are  some  public  schools  in  which  a  single  game  — 
such  as  football  —  is  the  favourite  sport,  and  every  boy 
who  does  not  happen  to  like  the  game  is  set  down  as  a 
craven  or  a  milksop.  This  is  often  very  unjust  to 
scholars,  who  are  not  deficient  in  energy  or  manliness, 


TJie  Fine  Arts  295 


but  to  whom  other  forms  of  activity  are  more  attractive. 
The  school  should  therefore  provide  alternative  recrea- 
tions, and  when  it  has  done  so,  the  master  has  a  right  to 
assume  that  the  boy  who  cares  for  none  of  them  is 
probably  a  loafer  whose  habits  need  to  be  corrected. 
At  Uppingham,  which  under  Thring  was  the  first  public 
school  in  England  to  start  a  gymnasium,  games  were  so 
organized  as  to  suit  all  the  boys  and  not  only  the  heroes 
of  the  cricket  or  the  football  field.  There  was  the 
carpenter's  shop,  the  laboratory,  the  garden,  an  aviary, 
the  field  naturalists'  club,  and  liberty  to  wander  at  will 
over  the  Rutland  hills  and  pastures.  There  was  little  or 
no  wrong  doing.  Rules  were  few,  and  there  were  many 
things  to  be  done  more  amusing  than  breaking  them. 

Thus  there  was  in  his  mind  a  clear  division  of  the 
time  of  a  scholar  into  main  working  time  and  leisure 
time;  or  rather  into  regular  scholarly  lessons  on  the  one 
hand,  and  sub-industries  and  non-compulsory  recreation 
on  the  other.  Underlying  this  arrangement  was  the 
belief  that  in  the  long  run  the  pursuits  of  leisure  often 
affect  the  character  most.  But  all  this  presupposed  a 
knowledge  of  the  idiosyncrasies  and  the  peculiar  charac- 
teristics of  every  boy.  And  it  was  because  such  know- 
ledge was  not  attainable  in  a  large  school,  that  as  we 
have  seen  he  firmly  resisted  all  temptations  to  increase 
the  numbers,  although  such  increase  was  much  desired 
by  his  colleagues,  and  would  manifestly  have  been  con- 
venient on  financial  grounds. 

It  is  notable  also  that  Thring  attached  high  value  to  En- 
the  formative  and  refining   influence  of  the  fine  arts.  couraSc- 

°  ment  of 

Personally  he  was  deficient  in  the  musical  faculty,  but  he  music  and 
believed  that  music  had  been  unduly  neglected  in  public t!lc  fl"e 
school  education,  and  that  the  pursuit  of  it  would  have 
the  effect  of  interesting  boys  who  had  no  strong  intel- 


296  Edzvard  Thring 


lectual  interests.  From  the  first  Mr  Parkin  tells  us  he 
determined  that  the  music  given  to  the  boys  should  be 
of  the  best.  By  the  offer  of  liberal  salaries  he  was 
enabled  to  secure  men  of  a  high  stamp.  "We  want," 
said  he,  "not  only  a  first-rate  musician  who  has  made 
music  his  profession  and  is  a  master  in  it,  but  a  man  of 
personal  power  and  go,  who  can  inspirit  the  boys  and 
breathe  some  enthusiasm  into  them."  One  of  his  most 
accomplished  helpers  in  this  work,  Herr  David,  has 
thus  described  the  working  of  this  notable  and  novel 
experiment  : 1  — 

"  Fifty  years  ago  music  had  no  place  whatever  in  the  curriculum 
of  the  great  English  schools,  and  it  may  be  boldly  asserted  that 
Thring  was  the  first  of  head-masters  who  fully  recognized  the  value 
of  the  subject,  and  who  assigned  to  it  a  not  unimportant  place  in 
his  scheme  of  education.  It  is  true,  an  organist,  who  also  gave 
some  private  lessons,  was  generally  attached  to  school  chapels,  and 
choirs  were  connected  with  the  colleges  of  Eton  and  Winchester. 
But  they  were  professional  and  salaried  choirs,  and  no  gentleman's 
son  ever  thought  of  joining  them.  It  is  also  true  that  school  con- 
certs were  not  quite  unknown,  but  they  were  merely  '  got  up  '  for 
the  annual  festivities  —  they  had  no  connexion  with  the  work  of 
the  school  —  and  the  programmes  usually  consisted  of  music  of  the 
lightest  descriptions  —  songs,  airs,  glees, — now  and  then,  perhaps, 
an  oratorio  chorus.  The  fact  was,  in  those  clays,  music  was  gen- 
erally looked  upon  as  an  agreeable  accomplishment  for  young  ladies  ; 
and  as  a  rule  an  English  boy  would  as  little  think  of  singing  or  play- 
ing as  he  would  of  working  embroidery  or  knitting  stockings.  To 
do  so  was  considered  rather  unmanly, 

"  That  Thring,  himself  quite  unmusical,  should  have  been  the 
first  to  introduce  music  into  such  schools  is  certainly  very  remark- 
able. Like  every  great  innovator,  he  was  in  this  point,  as  in  many 
others,  in  advance  of  his  time.  That  he  should  have  recognized  the 
power  of  music  —  the  perceptive  organ  for  which,  a  musical  ear, 
nature  had  absolutely  denied  him  —  is  certainly  a  wonderful  testi- 
mony to  the  man's  intuitive  judgment.     But  the  deficiency  caused 

1  Parkin's  Life  of  E.    Thring,  chapter  X. 


Music  297 

by  the  absence  of  a  musical  ear  was  with  him  to  some  extent 
balanced  by  the  extreme  sensitiveness  of  his  organization,  ami  by 
that  power  of  human  sympathy  which  pervaded  everything  he  did 
and  said  and  wrote.  Although  he  would,  as  a  rule,  candidly  con- 
fess his  inability  to  make  anything  of,  or  derive  any  enjoyment  from 
music,  yet  on  some  rare  occasions  he  would  be  deeply  impressed, 
and  then  invariably  by  something  really  great  and  striking.  No- 
body who  saw  his  face  light  up  through  a  spirited  chorus  like  the 
'Hallelujah'  from  the  Messiah,ot  'Rise  up,  arise'  from  St  Paul, 
could  doubt  that  he  was  deeply  impressed.  Certainly  the  under- 
lying words  assisted  him  in  such  instances  to  grasp  something  of  the 
music,  and  the  manifest  enthusiasm  of  the  performers  also  touched 
him. 

"  The  means  by  which  he  gave  to  music  a  prominent  place  in 
his  school  were  simple  enough.  In  the  first  place,  he  made  the 
attendance  on  singing  classes  and  music  lessons  compulsory,  and 
subject  to  the  same  discipline  as  any  regular  school  subject.  But, 
above  all,  he  gave  to  his  music  masters  his  full  personal  support  and 
sympathy.  He  would  frequently  attend  the  choir  rehearsals,  and 
plainly  manifest  at  all  times  his  interest  in  the  musical  work  done  in 
the  school.  He  especially  gave  his  music  masters  a  completely  free 
hand  in  the  choice  of  methods  and  the  selection  of  works  to  be 
studied  and  performed.  He  knew  how  true  it  is  that  '  for  the 
young  the  best  is  just  good  enough.'  As  he  himself,  being  quite 
unmusical,  could  not  judge,  he  wisely  left  the  management  in  the 
hands  of  those  he  had  reason  to  believe  could  judge.  He  would 
never  listen  to  outside  suggestions  and  complaints.  In  early  days 
the  cry  for  more  '  popular '  and  less  '  classic '  music  was  not  un- 
frequently  raised  even  within  school  circles.  But,  like  all  men 
who  are  really  masters  of  their  craft,  he  had  a  strong  distrust  of 
dilettantism,  and  in  the  case  of  music  would  not  allow  it  to  meddle 
with  the  work  of  the  professional  musician.  The  results  of  this 
system  soon  became  apparent.  Music  —  good,  serious  music  —  be- 
came a  prominent  feature  of  Uppingham,  more  so  than  of  any  other 
public  school  in  England,  and  it  may  confidently  be  asserted  that 
the  example  of  Uppingham  in  this  respect  has  largely  been  followed 
elsewhere.  Men  like  the  late  Sterndale  Bennett,  Joachim,  and 
Villiers  Stanford  became  warmly  interested  in  Uppingham  music, 
and  by  their  frequent  visits  to  the  school,  and  actual  participation 
in  school  concerts,  gave  an  invaluable  stimulus  to  the  subject." 


298  Edward  Thring 


The  In  like  manner  and  for  similar  reasons  Thring  at- 

of°thel°n  tacned  great  importance  to  the  artistic  decoration  of  the 
school-  school-room  and  the  chapel,  and  he  made  ample  pro- 
room.  vision  for  the  study  of  drawing  and  design.  The  various 
class-rooms  were  adorned  with  pictures,  photographs,  and 
models;  the  studio  with  portraits  of  various  artists;  the 
classical  room,  with  pictures  of  Athens  and  of  Rome  and 
illustrations  of  Greek  and  Roman  art;  another  room  with 
portraits  of  eminent  historians  and  representations  of 
memorable  historic  scenes.  There  was  a  twofold  pur- 
pose in  this.  To  surround  the  scholar  in  his  daily  life 
with  graceful  ornament,  and  with  examples  of  artistic 
colour  and  design  is  to  furnish  a  silent  yet  not  ineffective 
discipline  to  the  tastes;  and  to  help  a  boy  all  through  his 
life  to  detect  ugliness  and  vulgarity  and  to  rebel  against 
Honour  to  them.  But  a  still  stronger  reason  in  Turing's  mind  was 
that  he  was  doing  'honour  to  lessons,'  by  surrounding 
them  with  as  many  dignified  and  beautiful  accessories  as 
possible.1  This  is  a  point  of  view  too  often  overlooked. 
Happily  even  in  our  best  elementary  schools  —  particularly 
in  some  of  those  under  the  London  School  Board  —  much 
has  been  done  by  means  of  picture  decoration  to  serve 
as  an  unconscious  lesson  in  good  taste;  but  it  must  ever 
be  remembered  to  Thring's  honour  that  he  was  the  first 
head-master  of  a  great  public  school  to  perceive  the 
importance  of  pictorial  associations  calculated  to  touch 
the  imagination  of  the  scholar,  and  to  give  him  a  store  of 
pleasant  memories  for  the  enrichment  of  his  after  life. 
Thring 's  Thring' s  views  on  the  philosophy  and  practice  of 
education  are  set  forth  with  much  fulness  in  his  books, 
which  though  they  do  not  profess  to  be  text-books  or 

1  Lord  Carnarvon  said  on  Founder's  day,  "  Since  the  days  of  the 
painted  porch  in  Athens,  I  doubt  whether  training  has  ever  been 
installed  more  lovingly  or  more  truly,  or  in  a  worthier  home," 


Thring's  writings  299 

pedagogic  manuals  of  rules  and  formulae,  have  proved 
eminently  inspiring  and  practical  to  English-speaking 
teachers  at  home  and  in  America.  He  wrote,  in  fact, 
on  no  other  subjects  than  those  which  were  closely  con- 
nected with  his  own  profession;  and  he  will  deserve  to 
be  remembered  rather  as  a  man  of  action,  and  as  one 
who  concentrated  his  whole  force  upon  the  practical 
problems  of  school  life,  than  as  a  contributor  to  general 
literature.  Yet  his  books  are  entitled  to  a  permanent 
place  in  all  educational  libraries.  The  earliest  was 
written  under  the  pseudonym  of  Benjamin  Place  and  was 
called  Thoughts  on  Life  Science,  a  work  dealing  generally 
with  the  relation  of  Christian  faith  to  knowledge  and  to 
human  progress.  His  other  books,  Education  and  School, 
and  The  Theory  and  Practice  of  Teaching,  and  a  posthu- 
mous volume  of  miscellaneous  Addresses  delivered  to 
various  bodies  of  teachers,  represent  his  later  convictions 
on  educational  science.  He  cannot  be  credited  in  a  high 
degree  with  the  faculty  of  humour,  but  he  had  a  very 
nimble  fancy,  and  in  his  books  and  in  his  teaching  he 
constantly  employs  metaphor  to  an  extent  which  reminds 
one  of  Sir  Hudibras,  who 

"  could  not  ope 
His  mouth,  hut  out  there  flew  a  trope," 

and  his  peculiar  genius  thus  betrayed  him  often  into  the  His 
use  of  paradox  and  exaggeration.  But  there  was  always  fancles- 
a  serious  meaning  in  what  he  wrote.  As  I  have  else- 
where said,1  "  All  his  writings  are  characterized  by  a  deep 
sense  of  the  moral  and  religious  purpose  which  should 
be  served  in  education,  by  fine  enthusiasm,  by  intuitive 
insight  into  child  nature,  by  happy  and  pregnant  aphor- 
isms, and  by  an  active  and  often  grotesque  fancy,  which, 

1  In  the  Dictionary  of  National  Biography. 


300  Edward  Thring 

though  it  illuminated  his  talk  and  his  books,  led  him  to 
indulge  in  analogies  occasionally  remote  and,  it  must  be 
owned,  somewhat  tantalizing.  There  are  chapters  e.g.  in 
his  book  on  The  Theory  and  Practice  of  Teaching,  headed 
'The  school-boys'  briar  patch,'  'Legs  not  wings,'  'The 
blurred  Chromograph, '  'Run  the  goose  down,'  which 
require  the  reader  to  be  attuned  to  the  writer's  peculiar 
form  of  thought  before  their  meaning  becomes  fully 
intelligible."  It  is  right  to  add  that  his  books  are  also 
characterized  by  a  melancholy  impression  that  he  was 
fighting  for  a  lost  cause;  that  the  liberty  which  he  valued 
so  much  for  himself  was  in  danger  from  the  interference 
of  statesmen  and  examiners,  and  of  an  imperfectly  in- 
structed public.  In  a  private  letter  thanking  me  in  1884 
for  a  review  which  I  had  written  of  his  book  he  says, 
"Pessimist  as  I  am  as  regards  England  in  this  matter, 
and  believing  that  the  cause  is  already  lost,  and  sadly 
familiar  with  the  facts  which  make  me  believe  this,  I 
marvel  now  how  I  was  induced  to  break  my  resolution  of 
holding  my  tongue,  and  when  I  did  so,  it  was  with  a 
heavy  consciousness  of  useless  effort  for  the  present. 
*  *  I  have  however  a  foothold  in  America,  Canada,  and 
Hungary  which  cheers  me.  I  will  not  thank  you,  because 
the  help  given  to  me  was  the  outcome  of  a  common 
cause;  but  I  will  thank  and  trust  the  common  cause 
which  has  brought  me  so  valued  a  recognition." 

Here  are  a  few  characteristic  sentences  by  which  one 
may  learn  to  judge  of  the  fertility  of  his  illustration,  and 
the  strength  of  his  convictions:  — 

"  I  feel  more  and  more  disinclined  to  have  anything  to  do  with 
public  life  and  all  its  noisy  clatter,  where  everyone  is  playing  his 
own  tune,  and  barrel-organs  which  can  go  with  a  handle  are  worth 
much  more  than  violins  which  want  a  soul." 

Diary,  Dec.  14,  1874. 


istic 
extracts, 


Characteristic  extracts  301 

"  Education  is  not  bookworm  work,  but  the  giving  the  subtle 
power  of  observation  the  faculty  of  seeing,  the  eye  and  mind  to 
catch  hidden  truths  and  new  creative  genius.  If  the  cursed  rule- 
mongering  and  technical  terms  could  be  banished  to  limbo,  some- 
thing might  be  done.  Three  parts  of  teaching  and  learning  in 
England  is  the  hiding  common  sense  and  disguising  ignorance  under 
phrases."  Diary. 

"  Knowledge  worship  and  the  lust  of  the  head  are  deadly  enemies 
to  the  loving  eye  and  the  humble  spirit." 

Address  to  the  Teachers'  Guild. 
"  Here  I  spend  my  days  leading  jackasses  up  Parnassus." 
"The  whole  tendency  of  the  present  day  is  to  glorify  quick 
returns,  various  knowledge  —  cram,  in  fact,  and  to  depreciate  thought 
training  and  strength." 

Education  and  School. 

"The  most  pitiful  sight  in  the  world  is  the  slow,  good   boy, 
laboriously  kneading   himself  into  stupidity  because  he  is  good." 
Address  to  Teachers  of  Minnesota. 

"All  my  life  long  the  good  and  evil  of  the  Ilminster  School  has 

been  upon  me.     It  is  even  now  one  of  my  strongest  impressions, 

with   its   misery,    the    misery   of  a  clipped  hedge  with  every  clip 

through  flesh  and  blood,  and  fresh  young  feelings,  its  snatches  of 

joy,  its  painful  but  honest  work  —  grim,  but  grimly  in  earnest,  and 

its   prison   morality  of  discipline.     The  most  lasting  lesson  of  my 

life  was  the  failure  of  suspicion  and  severity  to  get  inside  the  boy 

world,  however  much  it  troubled  our  outsides.  *  *  *     It  was  my 

memories  of  that  school  and  its  severities  which  made  me  long  to 

"  try  if  I  could  not  make  the  life  of  small  boys  at  school  happier  and 

brighter." 

*        Parkin,  Vol.  I.  p.  13. 

"  The  great  point  of  internal  discipline  is  to  make  every  boy 
interested  in  the  conduct  of  his  fellows.  They  are  their  own  law- 
givers, inasmuch  as  the  more  they  shew  themselves  worthy  of  trust, 

the  more  rules  are  relaxed." 

Notes,  1858. 

"  To-day  I  signed  the  contract  for  the  chapel.  *  *  Every  stone 
here  is  laid  in  sorrow  and  fear,  and  mortared  with  sweat  and  blood 
and  perplexity." 

Diary,  May  17,  1862. 


302  Edward  Thring 


"  I  have  observed  lately  no  unnatural  desire  here  to  claim  a 
position  among  English  schools.  Now  you  cannot  claim  it.  It  must 
come.  Indeed  we  are  very  far  from  wishing  that  the  school  should 
come  forward  on  the  false  ground  of  mere  increase  of  numbers,  which 
may  be  an  increase  of  shame,  for  a  mob  is  not  an  army,  or  of  mere 
identity  with  other  schools,  which  is  not  what  has  made  us  what  we 
are.  Yet  be  sure  there  are  the  means  here  of  being  great.  Have 
you  so  soon  forgotten  the  motto  in  your  head  room : 

'  Self-reverence,  self-knowledge,  self-control, 
These  three  alone  lead  life  to  sovereign  power.' 1 

Yes,  power  must  come,  and  there  are  two  ways  for  it  to  come. 
Most  of  all,  and  first,  the  winning  a  character  for  truth  and  honour. 
Most  of  all  that  no  lie  in  word  or  deed,  no  shams,  no  underhand 
deceits,  shall  harbour  here  —  nothing  that  will  not  bear  the  light. 
Let  this  be  the  school  character,  as  I  trust  it  is,  and  fear  not.  The 
school  is  great." 

Address  to  Boys  on  the  Opening  of  the  New  School  Building, 
1863. 
"  I  don't  want  the  cricket  to  get  too  powerful  here,  and  to  be 
worshipped  and  made  the  end  of  life  for  a  considerable  section  of 
the  school."  Diary,  May,  1872. 

"  The  distinction  between  mechanic  work  and  life  work,  and 
between  force  and  true  power,  forms  the  basis  of  educational 
science." 

Theory  and  Practice  of  Teaching,  p.  32. 

"  The  limits  are  narrow  indeed  within  which  the  whip  is  master, 
whether  it  be  the  whip  of  breadwinning  and  the  hard  necessity  of 
working  to  live,  or  of  intellect  and  the  pride  of  strength." 

Ibid. 

"  If  training  is  indeed  the'object,  no  useless  punishment  should 
be  inflicted,  that  is,  no  punishment  which  shall  not  have  something 
in  it  beneficial  in  the  doing.  *  *  *  The  common  school  punishment 
of  setting  a  boy  to  write  out  and  translate  his  lessons  signally  fails. 
It  is  not  beneficial,  but  the  contrary.  It  is  wearisome  without 
exercising  the  mind.  This  is  not  good.  It  injures  the  handwriting; 
this  is  not  good.  It  encourages  slovenly  habits;  this  is  not  good. 
It  contains  no  corrective  element,  except  that  it  is  a  disagreeable 


1  Tennyson's  CEnone. 


Extracts  continued  303 

way  of  spending  time  ;  but  time  is  very  precious;  a  chief  part  of 
training  is  teaching  a  right  use  of  time,  wasting  time  therefore  is  not 
satisfactory  in  a  good  school.  The  one  advantage  it  possesses,  and 
that  is  not  unimportant,  is  this,  it  gives  no  trouble  to  masters,  and 
does  not  take  up  their  time." 

Education  and  School,  p.  241. 

"  Genius  is  the  power  of  getting  inside  a  subject  by  loving  it, 
not  a  power  of  flying  above  it." 

Theory  and  Practice,  p.  234. 

"Notes  taken  in  school  should  be  very  sparingly  allowed;  a 
note-book  is  not  attention,  neither  is  it  a  boy's  mind." 

p.  227. 

"  If  one  afternoon  a  week  is  set  apart  for  a  lecture  to  the  whole 
school  on  any  subject  whatever  worth  lecturing  on,  much  general 
knowledge  of  common  but  unknown  things  can  be  given.  Grand 
battues  of  carnivorous  stags,  and  other  such  game,  take  place, 
interest  is  excited,  and  freshness  poured  into  the  school  routine. 
Not  the  least  valuable  part  of  this  plan  is  the  advantage  it  is  to  the 
masters  themselves.  Has  any  one  of  them  a  hobby,  a  favourite 
pursuit,  he  is  able  to  bring  it  out  and  air  it  before  an  appreciative 
audience,  to  exhibit  himself  as  a  human  being  with  human  sympathies, 
and  not  merely  a  mummified  paste  of  Greek  and  Latin  verbs." 

p.  207. 

"  Attention  rises  or  falls  in  the  barometer  in  proportion  to  the 
master's  ability.  Inattention  is  a  master's  sin.  It  is  a  weed  which 
above  all  others  grows  on  badly  farmed  ground." 

p.  176. 

"  All  speak  a  language.  Everything  in  the  world  passes  through 
language.     Clear  and  widen  the  language-pipe  first. 

"  A  teacher  is  a  combination  of  heart,  head,  artistic  training  and 
favouring  circumstances.  Like  all  other  high  arts,  there  must  be 
free  play  or  there  can  be  no  teaching. 

"  Any  fool  with  knowledge  can  pour  it  into  a  clever  boy,  but  it 
needs  a  skilled  teacher  to  teach  a  stupid  one.  Break  down  the 
knowledge  idol.      Smash  up  the  idolatry  of  knowledge." 

Address  to  Teachers  of  Minnesota. 

"  Life  is  what  has  to  be  dealt  with,  not  lessons,  or  lessons  only 
so  far  as  they  inspirit  life,  enrich  it,  and  give  it  new  powers." 

Address  to  Education  Society. 


304  Edward  TJiring 


"  The  best  way  to  form  the  '  pictorial  mind '  I  believe  to  be  to 
set  a  boy  before  a  picture  or  a  scene;  tell  him  to  look  at  it,  to  fix  it 
in  his  mind;  and  then  turn  him  round,  make  him  shut  his  eyes, 
and  describe  what  he  sees  in  his  mind." 

A  Workman 's  Hints  on  Teaching  Work. 

His  It  may  well  be  doubted  whether  the  affectionate  zeal 

dianes.  o£  ^  biographer  y[r  parkin  has  not  unintentionally 
done  some  disservice  to  Thring's  permanent  repute,  by 
placing  on  record  so  large  a  number  of  extracts  from  his 
personal  diary.  They  leave  on  the  reader's  mind  a 
strong  impression,  that  the  keeping  of  a  diary  except  as 
a  record  of  memorable  facts  and  incidents  is  often  a 
grave  mistake,  especially  when,  as  in  Thring's  case,  the 
result  is  given  to  the  world.  Mr  Parkin's  extracts  reveal 
with  pitiless  candour  the  weaker  and  less  noble  side  of 
his  hero's  strong  and  original  character — his  irritability, 
his  impatience  of  control,  his  frequent  unwillingness 
to  do  justice  to  the  views  of  other  people,  and  his 
tendency  to  exaggerate  the  importance  of  petty  daily 
incidents  in  the  school  life,  and  to  be  needlessly  worried 
by  them.  Many  of  these  details  are  given  with  somewhat 
disproportionate  fulness  in  the  biography,  and  are  ill- 
calculated  to  convey  a  true  picture  of  Thring's  character 
as  a  whole. 
The  Head-  Although  all  the  activity  and  ambition  of  his  life  were 
Masters  j  ^  ^  concentrated  on  the  school,  there  were 

Confer- 
ence, two  or  three  external  interests  which  excited  much  of 

his  enthusiasm,  and  to  which  he  devoted  much  thought. 

One  of  these  was  the  "Head-Masters'  Conference,"  a 

thing  unknown  before  1869,  but  now  well  understood  to 

be  an  institution  of  great  value,  and  a  factor  of  much 

importance  in  the  history  of  English  Schools.      Thring 

had  thought  much  about  the  need  of  more  solidarity  in 

the  teacher's  profession;  and  the  passing  of  the  Endowed 


Head-Mistresses'  Conference  305 

Schools  Act  in  that  year,  while  it  made  him  feel  great 
distrust  of  Government  and  a  somewhat  exaggerated 
alarm  at  the  prospect  of  its  action,  rendered  him  more 
than  ever  sensible  of  the  need  for  united  counsel  on  the 
part  of  his  brethren,  and  of  the  advantages  which  might 
accrue  from  the  establishment  of  a  sense  of  corporate 
union,  and  from  deliberation  on  the  methods  of  instruction 
and  on  the  interests  of  the  profession  generally.  Accord- 
ingly it  was  at  his  instance  and  on  his  invitation  that  the 
first  meeting  was  held  at  Uppingham  in  December  1S69. 
In  his  speech  he  laid  down  the  broad  lines  and  scope  of  the 
Conference,  dwelt  on  the  pleasantness  and  profitableness 
of  brotherly  intercourse,  and  proposed  that  the  Confer- 
ence should  become  an  annual  institution.  It  need  not 
surprise  us  that  among  so  conservative  a  body  and  one 
whose  members  were  so  little  accustomed  to  collective 
action,  many  Head-Masters  showed  much  misgiving  and 
reluctance,  and  that  only  thirteen  of  them  attended  the 
first  meeting:  successive  gatherings  in  later  years  at 
Winchester,  Dulwich,  at  Eton,  Harrow,  and  Marlborough 
were  attended  by  increasing  numbers,  and  as  the  business 
became  systematized,  the  usefulness  and  the  public 
influence  of  the  body  increased  year  by  year.  One  of 
his  most  distinguished  colleagues  in  a  letter  to  me  says, 
"  We  always  regarded  Thring  as  our  founder,  and  for 
years  he  took  a  leading  part  in  its  meetings  and  on  its 
committees;  but  being  both  autocratic  and  eccentric, 
he  was  not  an  ideal  committee  man;  but  then  what 
genius  is?  Thring  had  in  him,  though  much  alloyed,  an 
element  of  genius;  and  I  love  and  respect  his  memory." 

It  was  his  conviction  of  the  value  of  such  opportuni-  Head- 
tiesof  mutual  intercourse,  and  his  experience  of  their  prac- 
tical  success,  that  led  him  to  welcome  with  keen  interest 
the  establishment  among  the  Head-Mistresses  of  Girls' 


306  Edward  Thring 

Public  Schools  of  a  similar  association;  and  with  charac- 
teristic chivalry  he  invited  the  whole  party  of  ladies  to 
hold  their  meeting  at  Uppingham  in  June  1887.  On  that 
occasion  he  entertained  the  late  Miss  Buss  and  the  prin- 
cipal members  of  the  Conference,  and  delivered  to  them 
a  stirring  and  suggestive  address.  He  had  always  set  a 
high  value  on  the  services  of  women  in  education,  and 
he  rejoiced  much  at  the  many  new  openings  for  their 
usefulness  and  intellectual  influence,  which  have  charac- 
terized the  present  age.  In  the  address  which  he  had 
written  to  the  American  teachers  assembled  at  Minnesota 
he  had  congratulated  them  on  the  large  and  increasing 
numberof  women  engaged  in  the  work  of  higher  education 
in  the  States,  and  had  said  :  — 

Women  as         "  I  hold  that  nature  to  be  the  highest  which  in  a  true  way  has 
teachers.      got  the  farthest  in  recognizing  woman's  mission  and  works,  whose 
simple  power  it  is  to  undermine  and  discredit  force,  to  make  work 
lovely,  to  present  a  living  example  of  the  highest  influence  depend- 
ing on  gentleness  and  helpfulness." 

From  his  address  to  the  lady-teachers  at  Uppingham, 
it  must  suffice  if  I  take  two  or  three  sentences. 

"  If  spiritual  influence  is  the  primary  power  which  sets  movement 
going,  the  sovereign  power  of  woman  in  the  world  is  manifest." 

"  In  many  fields  of  refined  feeling  and  delicate  power  in  art  and 
literature,  women  will  excel  men  when  fair  play  is  given  them." 

"  Leave  men  to  do  the  coarser  work.     Be  content  with  the 
queenly  power  that  moulds  and  rules." 

Settlement  Uppingham  was  the  first  of  the  great  public  schools 
to  establish  a  school  mission  or  settlement  in  one  of  the 
poorest  parts  of  London,  and  to  invoke  in  its  aid  the 
support  of  the  boys  as  well  as  the  masters.  Thring 
began  the  work  at  the  North  Woolwich  settlement  in 
1S69,  and  the  precedent  was  followed  seven  years  later 
by  Winchester  and  afterwards  by  most  of  the  larger  public 


Woolwich. 


The  prize  system  307 

schools.  He  saw  in  the  working  of  the  experiment  a  means 
of  calling  out  in  the  boys  more  sympathy  and  a  higher 
stnse  of  responsibility  towards  the  poor  and  others  whose 
intellectual  advantages  were  small;  and  it  interested  him 
keenly  on  other  grounds :  "The  more  I  think  of  North 
Woolwich  the  more  my  heart  rests  on  it.  There  is  such 
a  taste  of  life  in  it." 

The  same  desire  to  interest  the  boys  in  philanthropic 
work  led  him  to  form  the  'Uppingham  School  Society' 
to  encourage  the  efforts  after  self-improvement  made 
by  persons  engaged  in  the  different  industries  of  the 
little  town.  There  were  classes,  lectures,  a  cookery 
school,  and  other  popular  devices  for  interesting  the 
inhabitants.  The  Society  was  managed  and  sustained 
mainly  by  old  boys;  and  it  has,  during  many  years,  prored 
of  much  service  to  the  town,  and  furnished  a  useful  link 
of  association  between  the  school  and  the  residents. 

Thus  in  more  ways  than  one  Turing  may  be  regarded 
as  the  pioneer  of  some  of  the  most  important  educational 
improvements  of  our  time  in  regard  to  methods  and 
aims  of  teaching,  to  the  enlargement  of  the  curriculum 
of  instruction,  to  the  opportunities  for  the  employ- 
ment of  special  faculties,  and  to  the  discovery  of  new 
relations  between  the  work  of  a  school  and  that  of  home 
and  professional  life.  At  a  time  when  the  worship  of  The  prize 
mere  cleverness  seemed  to  him  unduly  in  the  ascendant,  s)'ste"1- 
when  it  was  part  of  the  policy  of  some  great  schools  to 
compete  with  each  other  for  the  possession  of  boys 
likely  to  distinguish  themselves,  and  by  means  of  severe 
entrance  examinations  to  discourage  the  admission  of 
others;  and  when  the  usefulness  and  repute  of  a  school 
were  apt  to  be  estimated  by  the  number  of  prizes,  exhibi- 
tions, and  academic  successes  it  could  win,  Thring  reso- 
lutely vindicated  the  rights  of  the  rank  and  file  of  ordinary 


308  Edward  TJiriug 


scholars.  He  thought  it  a  higher  triumph  to  maintain 
a  good  average  of  capable  and  industrious,  even  though 
undistinguished,  boys,  than  to  win  a  few  prizes  which 
would  help  Uppingham  to  achieve  notoriety,  and  to 
outstrip  other  schools  in  competitive  examinations. 
"Fasten  your  attention,"  he  would  say  to  his  assistants, 
"on  the  stupidest  and  least  promising  learners,  and 
measure  your  success  by  what  you  can  do  with  them." 
This  was  not  a  view  calculated  to  satisfy  the  ambition  of 
all  his  colleagues;  and  there  is  evidence  in  his  diary  of 
occasional  friction  between  him  and  them  in  consequence. 
A  masterful,  pugnacious,  and  withal  very  sensitive 
man,  he  had  an  almost  morbid  habit  of  introspection,  and 
a  tendency  to  chafe  under  small  vexations  and  rebuffs. 
Disappointments  came  to  him  from  injudicious  parents 
and  from  unsympathetic  trustees,  as  well  as  from  col- 
leagues; but  the  worst  disappointment  of  all  was  the 
failure  of  any  boy  to  sustain  either  in  the  University  or 
in  after-life,  the  hope  and  promise  of  his  early  youth. 
Sometimes  in  playful  sadness  he  would  compare  himself 
to  Aaron,  who  in  giving  account  of  the  treasure  that  had 
been  placed  in  his  hands,  was  fain  to  own,  "  I  cast  the 
gold  into  the  fire,  and  there  came  out  this  cat/.'"  Rut  when 
the  details  of  his  failures  and  successes  fall  into  their 
true  perspective,  the  fact  will  remain  that  his  thirty-two 
years  of  work  at  Uppingham  left  an  enduring  mark  on 
the  history  of  education  in  the  nineteenth  century;  and 
that,  except  Arnold,  there  was  no  one  of  his  contempo- 
raries who  did  more  to  raise  the  popular  ideal  of  what  a 
great  boarding-school  ought  to  be  and  to  do;  and  to 
illustrate  in  his  own  person  the  spiritual  and  moral 
relation  which  ought  to  subsist  between  teacher  and 
taught.  The  last  time  in  which  his  voice  was  heard  in 
the  school  chapel  which  he  loved  so  well,  was  on  the 


Mr  Skriuc's  book  309 

Sunday  before  his  death,  when  it  fell  to  him  to  read  the 
concluding  verse  of  the  psalms  for  the  evening  service,  — 
a  passage  deeply  significant  of  the  work  and  the  secret 
meaning  of  his  whole  life,  "So  he  fed  them  with  a 
faithful  and  a  true  heart,  and  ruled  them  prudently  with 
all  his  power." 

I  ought  not  to  conclude  without  counselling  all  my 
hearers  to  read,  if  they  can  obtain  it,  Mr  Skrine's  book,  .-/ 
Memory  of  Edward  Thring.  It  has  never  I  think  received 
either  fromteachersor  from  literary  critics  the  recognition 
it  deserves.  It  is  animated  by  the  true  spirit  of  disciple- 
ship;  and  a  more  graceful,  tender,  and  touching  tribute  has 
seldom  been  paid  by  a  loving  pupil  and  colleague  to  a  lost 
leader  and  friend.  The  book  is  distinguished  not  only 
by  literary  charm,  but  by  delicate  insight  and  sympathy, 
and  is  entitled  to  a  high  and  permanent  place  in  the 
bibliography  of  education.  From  it  the  reader  will  gain 
even  more  vividly  than  from  Mr  Parkin's  fuller  and  more 
official  biography,  a  picture  of  the  inner  life  of  Thring 
and  of  the  meaning  and  purpose  of  his  whole  career. 


Lecture  x 

THE    UNIVERSITY     EXTENSION     MOVEMENT, 
AND    ITS   RELATION   TO   SCHOOLS1 

The  University  Extension  Scheme.  Its  missionary  character.  Its 
possible  influence  on  Schools  and  on  Training  Colleges.  Ele- 
mentary teachers.  Some  special  disadvantages  in  their  life. 
Their  extra-professional  interests.  Certificate  hunting.  The 
study  of  history.  English  literature.  Economic  science.  The 
study  of  nature  and  art.     Teachers'  societies. 

The  'Uni-        I  have  been  asked  to  say  a  few  words  concerning  the 
v*rst*y .     .special  bearing  of   University  Extension  work  on   the 

Extension      v  °  J 

Scheme,  interests  of  teachers,  and  on  the  expansion  and  improve- 
ment of  public  education.  But  I  desire  first  of  all  to 
renew  the  expression  of  my  strong  sympathy  with  the 
work  which,  under  the  name  of  "University  Extension," 
the  ancient  foundations  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge  have 
of  late  years  taken  in  hand.  I  know  of  no  more  honour- 
able or  cheering  fact  in  our  educational  history  than 
that  these  two  great  Universities,  with  the  traditions  of  a 
thousand  years  behind  them,  and  with  many  inducements 
to  restrict  themselves  to  the  duty  of  promoting  learning 
by  time-honoured  academic  methods,  should  nevertheless 
have  made  efforts  to  extend  their  influence,  and  to  en- 
courage the  appetite  for  knowledge  among  persons  who 

1  Address  delivered  at  Oxford  at  the  Summer  Meeting  of  Uni- 
versity Extension  Students.     August,  1899. 

310 


Its  missionary  character  3 1 1 

live  remote  from  the  great  seats  of  learning,  and  who  are 

never  likely  to  become  graduates,   or  members  of  the 

University  in  any  technical  sense.     I  hope  nothing  will 

happen  to  hinder  or  discourage  this  work,  or  to  cause 

the  University  authorities  to  lose  faith  in  the  soundness 

of  the  principles  on  which  the  whole  of  this  Extension 

movement  is  based. 

Pedants  may  tell  you  that  the   people  who   attend  Us  »ns- 

vour  provincial  lectures  are  not  in  the  strict  sense  of  the  s """"'■ 
J  r  character. 

word  "University"  students,  and  that  the  University  is 
descending  from  its  true  dignity  when  it  concerns  itself 
with  the  reading  and  with  the  more  or  less  feeble  efforts 
after  self-improvement  of  non-residents  who  never  come 
in  any  real  sense  within  the  sphere  of  academic  influence. 
But  we  need  not  listen  to  such  objections.  Every 
institution  in  the  world  which  has  true  vitality  in  it, 
possesses  the  power  ampliare  jurisdictionem  and  to  find 
new  opportunities  of  usefulness  and  expansion.  And  the 
true  test  of  its  vitality  is  to  be  found  in  its  readiness  to 
welcome  such  opportunities,  and  to  make  the  most  of 
them.  In  hundreds  of  places  remote  from  the  great 
centres  of  learning,  the  advent  of  your  lecturer  and  the 
organization  of  a  series  of  lectures  are  memorable  and 
stimulating  events.  They  set  people  reading,  thinking, 
and  enquiring.  They  promote  a  higher  tone  of  conver- 
sation, and  they  lift  up  the  standard  of  intellectual  life  in 
the  local  society.  They  help  your  students  to  take  a 
new  and  fresh  outlook  into  the  world  of  nature  and  of 
books;  and  they  furnish  guidance  as  to  the  choice  of 
reading  and  the  right  methods  of  study.  Whether  this 
sort  of  missionary  effort  is,  in  the  historical  and  conven- 
tional sense,  "University"  work  or  not,  seems  to  me  an 
idle  question.  It  is  good,  honest  work;  it  is  closely  akin 
to  the  true  intent  and  purpose  of  a  great  University;  it 


312  University  Extension 

does  not  interfere  in  any  way  with  the  cultivation  of 
learning  by  the  traditional  academic  methods  and  within 
its  ancient  and  venerable  halls;  and  it  opens  out  to  the 
Scholars  and  Fellows  who  have  enjoyed  the  blessings  of 
residence  here  new  possibilities  of  rendering  public  ser- 
vice, and  of  exercising  influence  on  the  life  of  the  nation. 
Sometimes,  too,  the  effect  of  a  successful  course  of 
lectures  is  to  create  an  appetite  for  systematic  study,  to 
bring  recruits  into  actual  touch  with  the  University,  and 
otherwise  to  establish  permanent  centres  in  which,  under 
helpful  supervision  and  sympathy  from  headquarters, 
studies  of  a  genuine  University  type  may  be  regularly 
pursued.  At  Exeter,  Reading,  and  Colchester  valuable 
experiments  in  this  direction  have  already  been  made, 
with  high  promise  of  future  stability  and  usefulness.  By 
all  means,  let  the  University  encourage  such  experiments. 
But  do  not  let  her  disdain  the  humbler  work  which  is 
being  done  among  students  who  are  not  qualified  to  pass 
examinations,  and  whose  studies  cannot  be  said  to  con- 
form to  any  approved  academic  type.  If  you  succeed  in 
inspiring  such  students  with  new  motives  for  intellectual 
exertion,  and  in  awakening  in  them  not  only  an  increased 
interest  in  high  and  worthy  objects  of  thought,  but  also 
a  consciousness  of  increased  power  to  fashion  and  regu- 
late their  own  minds,  the  University  Extension  movement 
amply  vindicates  its  own  existence  and,  in  fact,  needs  no 
higher  vindication.  The  work  originally  undertaken  and 
carried  on  for  a  time  with  signal  success  by  the  Society 
for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge  and  by  the 
kindred  agency  of  Dr  Birkbeck  and  the  Mechanics' 
Institutes,  will  at  all  times  be  indispensable,  though  it 
may  be  carried  on  under  different  names.  The  Uni- 
versity Extension  Scheme  is  the  legitimate  modern 
successor   to    those    institutions,   and   it  possesses  this 


Its  influence  on  Schools  3 1 3 

great  advantage  over  them,  that  its  lectures  are  not  single, 
but  in  courses,  that  its  teachers  have  the  power  to  deal 
continuously  with  a  great  subject,  and  to  treat  it  ex- 
haustively, and  thus  to  help  real  students  who  are  not 
content  to  have  their  intellectual  appetites  stimulated 
by  occasional  lectures  on  new  and  unrelated  topics. 

But  I  am  to-day  especially  concerned  with  the  in-  Its  possible 
fluence  which  the  whole  scheme  may  exert  on  public  l"Jl"c'1"' 

.  J  '  011  Schools. 

education  generally,  and  with  the  way  in  which  it  may  fit 
in  and  become  incorporated  with  the  best  work  of  our 
Schools.  It  is  essential  that  the  'Extension  '  movement 
should  not  be  regarded  by  any  of  us  as  a  thing  apart. 
It  should  become  duly  co-ordinated  with  other  agencies, 
and  take  its  place  as  a  permanent  and  integral  factor  in 
the  system  of  national  education. 

We  may  admit  that  for  scholars  while  they  remain  in 
great  public  classical  schools,  or  higher  proprietary  and 
intermediate  schools,  the  popular  lectures  of  the  Univer- 
sity Extension  Society  are  well-nigh  superfluous.  Such 
pupils  are  in  daily  contact  with  scholarly  teachers,  who  are 
quite  capable  of  indulging  in  an  occasional 'excursus ' 
into  the  region  lying  all  round  the  prescribed  routine  of 
school  studies,  and  who  do  not  need  the  aid  of  the 
University  Extension  Lecturer  to  interest  their  scholars 
in  enquiries  beyond  those  necessarily  connected  with 
their  "form"  work.  But  even  here,  the  best  of  our 
teachers  are  discovering  that  the  occasional  services  of 
outside  lecturers  on  some  subject  of  public  interest,  on  the 
results  of  foreign  travel  and  enterprise,  or  on  the  history 
of  art,  not  only  afford  a  welcome  relief  to  severer  studies, 
but  have  a  distinctly  favourable  effect  on  the  general  life 
of  the  school,  by  giving  the  boys  something  fresh  to  talk 
about,  and  by  inspiring  some  of  them  to  seek  distinction 
in  new  fields  of  action  and  of  thought. 


314  University  Extension 

For  the  elder  pupils  in  schools  of  a  lower  and  inter- 
mediate character,  and  for  the  pupil-teachers  and  assist- 
ants in  our  public  elementary  schools,  there  is  work  to  be 
done  which  it  is  specially  fitting  for  the  University 
Extension  lecturers  to  undertake.  They  should  place 
themselves  in  communication  with  all  the  high  schools 
and  local  colleges,  and  learn  from  their  authorized 
teachers  what  is  the  kind  of  help  which  would  be  most 
appreciated  and  would  act  most  beneficially  on  the 
general  interests  and  life  of  the  students. 
Training  j\jy  own  experience  as  Inspector  of  Training  Colleges 
has  often  led  me,  while  expressing  a  hearty  appreciation 
of  the  many  merits  of  those  institutions,  to  deplore  what 
I  have  called  a  certain  'closeness  in  their  intellectual 
atmosphere'  —  a  too  exclusive  absorption  of  the  students' 
time  and  thoughts  in  the  prescribed  syllabus  of  exami- 
nation. This  narrowness  of  view  is  characteristic  of 
professional  seminaries  generally;  and  it  can  be  partially 
corrected  by  requiring  that  some  part  of  the  learners' 
training  should  be  obtained  in  common  with  other 
students  who  are  not  intending  to  be  teachers.  In  this 
respect,  a  course  of  University  Extension  lectures  may 
render  great  service.  Sometimes  when  it  can  be  so 
arranged,  such  a  course  may  well  deal  with  a  subject 
akin  to  that  prescribed  in  the  syllabus;  but  if  this  be 
done  the  treatment  of  the  subject  should  be  broad  and 
philosophical,  not  directed  to  the  purpose  of  passing  an 
examination,  but  rather  to  enable  the  students  to  see 
the  bearing  of  their  studies  on  other  than  professional 
necessities  or  ideals.  By  thus  supplementing  the  ordinary 
prelections  of  the  College  Professors,  the  University  may 
often  give  freshness  and  much  needed  variety  to  the 
regular  and  specific  normal  training. 

But  after  all,  it  is  to  the  trained  teacher,  after  he  or 


Elementary  teachers  315 

she  has  obtained  the  needful  professional  diploma,  and  Element- 

is  fairly  occupied  with  school  routine,  that  the  '  Extension'  a'y , 

J  l  teachers. 

movement  is  often  most  valuable. 

Owing  to  the  special  circumstances  of  my  own  official 
experience,  I  feel  peculiar  interest  in  the  teachers  —  both 
head-masters  and  mistresses  and  their  assistants  —  of  our 
public  elementary  schools.  Except  within  the  walls  of 
their  own  school-rooms,  they  often  live  very  sequestered 
lives.  In  country  places  they  have  few  opportunities  of 
intercourse  with  fellow  teachers.  Their  social  advantages 
are  not  great.  They  cannot,  of  course,  find  congenial 
friends  and  companions  in  the  class  to  which  their 
scholars  belong,  and  from  which  many  of  them  as  pupil- 
teachers  themselves  have  been  selected.  And  they  are 
not  always  received  on  a  footing  of  equality  into  the 
circles  in  which  men  of  the  learned  professions  —  clergy, 
doctors,  and  lawyers  move  freely  and  determine  the 
tone  and  standard  of  the  best  social  life.  However  we 
may  deplore  the  exclusiveness  which  often  dominates 
English  society,  we  must  accept  it  as  a  fact:  and  one 
result  of  it  is  that  the  trained  and  qualified  elementary 
teacher,  however  well  instructed  and  well  mannered, 
occupies  practically  a  rather  uncertain  and  anomalous 
status,  and  finds  himself  both  intellectually  and  socially 
in  a  position  of  isolation,  which  is  not  wholly  favour- 
able to  the  development  of  his  best  qualities,  or  to  the 
dignity  and  happiness  of  his  life. 

There  are  other  disadvantages  incident  to  the  career  Some 
of  elementary  teachers.     They  have  all  passed  through  a  sPjaa    ts~ 
prescribed  course  of  study,  which  to  many  of  them  seems  ;u  their 
laborious.     They  have  been  repeatedly  examined,  and  ltfe' 
they  have  passed  the  examination   for  a   Government 
certificate.       That    certificate   cannot    be    truly   said   to 
represent  a  standard  of  knowledge  equivalent  to  what  is 


3 16  University  Extension 

understood  in  other  professions  to  be  a  liberal  education. 
Vet  it  represents  the  irreducible  minimum  exacted  by 
the  Education  Department,  and  when  once  acquired,  it 
gives  to  the  certificate  holder  a  legal  qualification  to 
become  the  head  teacher  of  any  school  under  Govern- 
ment inspection.  What  wonder,  therefore,  if  by  many 
teachers  this  legal  minimum  is  mistaken  for  the  maxi- 
mum? It  satisfies  the  Government.  It  satisfies  school 
managers.  There  is  for  the  average  teacher  no  strong 
motive  for  further  study  or  intellectual  exertion.  His 
daily  duties  make  no  pressing  or  very  obvious  demand 
on  him  for  more  knowledge  than  he  possesses.  The 
certificate  examination  has  covered  all  the  subjects  he 
has  to  teach  in  the  ordinary  routine  of  school  duty.  He 
spends  his  days  in  the  presence  of  his  intellectual 
inferiors,  of  children  who  look  upon  him  as  a  prodigy  of 
erudition,  and  who  know  nothing  of  his  limitations.  It 
is  a  fine  thing  for  anyone,  in  playing  his  part  on  the 
stage  of  life,  to  perform  in  the  presence  of  an  audience 
which  habitually  demands  his  best.  But  the  schoolmaster 
works,  for  the  most  part,  before  an  uncritical  audience, 
which,  so  far  from  challenging  his  highest  powers,  and 
demanding  his  best,  is  often  well  content  with  his 
worst. 
Their  I  know  many  admirable  and  laborious  teachers  who 

extra-pro-  are  very  consci0us  of  the  depressing  effect  of  these  and 

fessional  .   . 

'interests,  the  like  conditions,  and  who  are  making  strenuous  efforts 
to  improve  those  conditions,  or  at  least  to  neutralize 
their  narrowing  influence.  Many  of  the  most  ambitious 
seek  for  such  scholarly  help  as  is  within  their  reach, 
and  plan  out  for  themselves  a  course  of  study  which 
will  enable  them  to  pass  the  open  examinations  of  the 
University  of  London,  and  in  due  time  to  attain  a  degree 
in  art  or  science.     These  are  very  honourable  efforts. 


Extra-professional  interests  317 

They  imply  diligence,  self-restraint,  self-conquest;  they 
widen  the  range  of  the  teacher's  knowledge;  they  bring 
to  him  personally,  and  to  the  profession  to  which  he 
belongs,  higher  public  estimation,  and  they  are  unques- 
tionably useful  as  helps  to  promotion.  But  it  is,  after 
all,  only  a  few  exceptional  teachers  who  are  competent 
to  undertake  this  enterprise,  and  are  prepared  to  make 
the  sacrifices  needed  to  ensure  success.  For  the  rank 
and  file  of  our  elementary  teachers  this  particular  path  of 
ambition  is  inaccessible.  And  it  is  for  them  that  the 
University  Extension  agency  is  especially  appropriate. 
Yet  to  them  the  prospect  of  more  examinations  is  not 
attractive.  They  have  been  examined  enough.  At  every 
stage  of  their  career  —  as  scholars  in  the  standards,  as 
pupil  teachers,  as  Queen's  scholars,  as  students  in  training 
colleges,  and  ultimately  as  candidates  for  certificates  — 
they  have  been  subjected  to  official  examination,  and 
their  success  has  been  measured  by  their  place  in  a  class 
list  or  by  the  report  of  H.  M.  Inspector.  It  is  inevitable 
that  they  should  have  come  to  regard  all  knowledge  — 
whether  their  own  or  that  of  their  scholars  —  as  a  market- 
able or  at  least  as  an  examinable  commodity;  something 
to  be  enforced,  measured,  and  appraised  by  an  outside 
authority,  rather  than  as  an  inner  and  precious  possession 
for  the  enrichment  of  their  own  lives.  I  do  not  see  how 
we  can  wholly  escape  from  the  action  of  the  examination 
system,  and  I  am  certainly  not  one  of  those  who  would 
denounce  examinations  as  wholly  bad;  but  it  is  well  that 
we  should  all  recognize  fairly  the  limitations  to  their 
usefulness,  and  the  price  we  pay  for  whatever  good  we 
obtain  from  them.  So,  after  all,  that  part  of  your  own 
arrangement  which  contemplates  the  holding  of  an 
examination,  and  the  award  of  a  certificate  at  the  end  of 
a  course  of  lectures,  however  valuable  it  may  be  as  a 


hunting. 


318  University  Extension 

means  of  giving  definiteness  to  the  aims  of  other  students, 
is  not  the  part  which  will  most  commend  itself  to  the 
elementary  teacher,  nor  the  part  which  will  prove  most 
helpful  to  him. 
'  'ertificate  Certificate  hunting  is  one  of  the  most  subtle  snares  of 
the  public  teacher.  He  is  tempted  to  say  of  all  new 
knowledge  that  is  presented  to  him,  "What  shall  I  gain 
by  this?  What  value  will  be  assigned  to  my  certificate 
by  school  managers  or  other  public  authorities?  How 
will  this  new  knowledge  pay,  and  help  my  promotion?" 
And  the  state  of  mind  which  suggests  these  questions  is 
fatal  to  any  true  conception,  not  only  of  professional  life, 
but  of  that  higher  and  larger  life  which  consisteth  not 
in  material  advantages  of  any  kind,  but  is  made  up  of 
ideas,  of  intellectual  hopes  and  aspirations,  of  the  love 
of  truth,  and  of  the  desire  to  give  full  scope  to  our  best 
faculties. 

By  all  means,  when  the  school  master  or  school  mis- 
tress becomes  conscious  of  the  need  of  further  mental 
cultivation  than  is  contemplated  by  merely  official  re- 
quirements, and  when  he  is  disposed  to  satisfy  this  want 
by  joining  a  Latin,  a  French,  or  a  Science  Class,  and 
reading  under  the  guidance  of  one  of  your  lecturers, 
with  a  view  to  the  passing  of  an  examination,  and  the 
attainment  of  a  certificate,  let  him  be  welcomed,  and  let 
his  ambition  be  encouraged.  But  I  have  in  view  mainly 
the  average  teacher,  who  is  not  prepared  to  make  this 
kind  of  effort  and  who  yet  feels  the  need  of  some 
stimulus  to  exertion,  and  some  enlargement  of  his  intel- 
lectual interests.  And  for  him  the  chief  need  is  not 
always  for  regular  study  on  the  scholastic  lines  with 
which  he  is  already  so  familiar,  but  for  general  mental 
culture,  literary  taste,  and  capacity  for  self-improvement. 
The  technical  studies  which  have  been  enforced  upon 


History  3 1 9 

him,  as  conditions  of  becoming  recognized  as  a  qualified 
teacher,  have  done  much  for  him.  But  they  have  in 
many  cases  failed  to  place  him  on  a  level  with  cultivated 
persons  in  other  professions,  or  to  qualify  him  to  share 
freely  and  on  equal  terms  in  their  talk  and  pursuits. 

Let  me  mention  two  or  three  of  the  topics  which  are 
often  handled  with  conspicuous  success  by  your  Uni- 
versity Extension  lecturers,  and  which  are  from  this 
point  of  view  specially  valuable  to  teachers,  because  they 
have  not  been  included  in  official  programmes,  and  have 
very  little  to  do  with  pedagogy. 

Of  these  one  of  the  most  important  is  history.  Of  The  study 
course,  all  our  teachers  have  studied  it,  and  have  ac-  ^ 
quired  a  certain  knowledge  of  its  main  outlines.  But 
it  has  not,  as  a  rule,  been  presented  to  them  in  its  most 
attractive  aspects.  The  history  read  up  from  text-books 
and  student's  manuals  is  not  inspiring.  It  is  not  forma- 
tive and  philosophical.  It  is  knowledge  of  facts  only, 
and  appeals  rather  to  the  memory  than  to  the  imagi- 
nation, the  reason,  or  the  conscience.  We  must  not 
complain  of  this.  It  could  not  be  otherwise.  The 
student  who  is  to  enter  the  higher  region  of  thought 
which  the  philosophy  of  history  occupies  must  first 
have  obtained  a  substratum  of  dates  and  facts;  must 
have  had  presented  to  him  a  carte  du  pays,  by  means 
of  which  he  may  assign  its  right  place  to  any  new 
information  he  may  be  able  to  obtain.  But  this  is  only 
the  beginning.     President  Eliot,  of  Harvard,  says  truly: 

"  If  any  study  is  liberal  and  liberalizing,  it  is  the  study  of  history 
—  the  study  of  the  passions,  opinions,  beliefs,  arts,  laws,  and  institu- 
tions of  different  races  or  communities,  and  of  the  joys,  sufferings, 
conflicts,  and  achievements  of  mankind.  Philology  and  polite 
literature  arrogate  the  title  of  '  humanities,'  but  what  study  can 
so  justly  claim  that  honourable  title  as  the  study  which  deals  with 
the  actual  experience  on  this  earth  of  social  and  progressive  man? 


320  University  Extension 

What  kind  of  knowledge  can  be  so  useful  to  a  legislator,  ad- 
ministrator, journalist,  publicist,  philanthropist,  or  philosopher  as 
a  well-ordered  knowledge  of  history?  *  *  The  study  of  our  own 
annals  in  particular  shows  the  young  the  springs  of  public  honour 
and  dishonour,  sets  before  them  the  national  failings,  weaknesses, 
and  sins;  warns  them  against  future  dangers  by  exhibiting  the 
losses  and  sufferings  of  the  past,  enshrines  in  their  hearts  the  national 
heroes,  and  strengthens  in  them  the  precious  love  of  country."  : 

Now  there  are  some  among  your  Extension  lecturers 
who  have  shown  a  real  grasp  of  historical  science  in 
this  its  higher  aspect,  and  who  are  competent  to  illumi- 
nate our  annals  by  fresh  thought  and  by  large  and  sure 
generalizations.  And  this  is  precisely  the  kind  of  help 
which  is  most  needed  by  teachers  whose  knowledge  of 
history  has  been  acquired  mainly  for  examination  pur- 
poses, and  who  are  yet  conscious  of  the  need  of  some- 
thing more  inspiring.  If  by  your  help,  such  teachers 
are  led  to  take  a  stronger  interest  in  the  great  and 
critical  periods  of  history,  and  in  the  lives  of  our  most 
famous  statesmen,  you  will  have  done  them  a  great 
permanent  service,  one  which  will  re-act  in  many  unex- 
pected ways  on  their  school  lessons,  and  give  additional 
enjoyment  and  dignity  to  their  own  leisure.  Good  trans- 
lations of  Herodotus  and  Thucydides  and  Tacitus  exist, 
and,  if  instead  of  learning  our  own  national  story  through 
compendiums,  you  are  able  to  awaken  the  appetite  for 
Bacon,  for  Hume,  for  Gibbon,  for  Froude,  for  Lecky,  for 
Buckle,  for  Seeley,  and  for  Pearson,  so  that  their  books 
shall  be  studied  at  first  hand,  and  not  in  extracts,  there 
will  be  an  abiding  result. 
English  Similar  considerations  apply  to  the  study  of  English 

ture  c         Literature.     There  is  no  need  for  us  to  disparage  the 
importance  of  the  course  of  instruction  through  which, 

1  Eliot,  Addresses  on  Educational  Reform,  p.  104. 


Literature  321 

in  accordance  with  the  syllabus  of  the  Education  Depart- 
ment, the  certificated  teacher  has  been  required  to  pass. 
He  has  taken  up  Comits  or  Lear,  has  worked  at  it  line 
by  line,  has  hunted  out  all  its  historical  allusions,  has 
studied  the  etymology  of  its  most  difficult  words,  has 
read  what  the  best  critics  have  said  about  the  drama, 
and  the  place  which  it  occupies  in  literature,  has  para- 
phrased some  of  the  more  memorable  passages,  and 
analyzed  them  both  grammatically  and  logically.  All 
this  has  unquestionable  utility,  and  I  do  not  see  how  you 
can  dispense  with  exercises  of  this  kind,  while  the 
student  is  in  statu  pupillari.  But  it  is  not  necessarily 
the  best  —  it  is  certainly  not  the  only  —  way  of  generating 
in  his  mind  an  abiding,  an  affectionate  interest  in  the 
great  masters  of  literary  expression,  and  in  the  best  that 
has  been  written  and  thought  in  the  world.  This  can 
only  come  when  a  great  masterpiece  is  studied  as  a  whole 
and  not  subjected  to  verbal  and  grammatical  analysis, 
when  the  reader  becomes  penetrated  with  its  spirit,  and 
finds  out  for  himself  the  motive  and  aim  of  the  author, 
and  the  place  the  book  holds  in  literature. 

Herein  lies  the  need  of  personal  contact  with  a 
scholarly  mind,  and  the  inspiration  which  can  only  come 
from  the  living  voice  of  an  effective  lecturer.  Thus  a 
student  may  be  helped  to  take  a  broad  and  comprehensive 
view  of  a  great  book;  and  to  find  his  appetite  whetted 
for  the  fuller  enjoyment  of  it  in  his  leisure.  And  the  true 
test  of  the  success  of  a  lecture  on  literature  is:  Does  it 
send  the  hearer  home  with  a  determination  to  make  at 
first  hand  a  fuller  acquaintance  with  the  poet  or  the  phi- 
losopher concerned?  Does  it  make  him  dissatisfied  with 
critical  essays,  with  "beauties,"  with  extracts,  with  re- 
views, and  still  more  with  "reviews  of  reviews"  —  in  a 
word,  with  what  clever  people  have  said  about  a  great 

Y 


322  University  Extension 

English  classic,  and  so  does  it  lead  him  to  form  his 
own  judgment,  and  make  his  own  extracts,  or  still  better, 
his  own  criticism?  It  is  only  when  these  conditions 
are  fulfilled  that  courses  of  lectures  on  literature  can 
serve  their  highest  purpose.  But  here  is  a  boundless 
region  of  thought  and  suggestion  and  usefulness,  which 
many  of  your  lecturers  have  occupied  with  signal  suc- 
cess, and  into  which  the  elementary  teacher  might  be 
cordially  invited.  How  much  the  possession  of  a  wider 
and  more  intimate  knowledge  of  the  great  dramatists,  and 
of  Milton,  of  Johnson,  of  Macaulay,  or  of  Wordsworth, 
would  do  to  increase  the  variety  of  his  illustrations,  and 
the  interest  of  his  school  lessons,  it  is  not  necessary 
for  me  to  say;  but  it  will  do  much  more  to  add  dignity 
to  his  leisure,  to  enrich  and  enlarge  his  own  thoughts, 
and  to  add  to  the  happiness  of  his  life. 

It  will  often  be  found  that,  besides  lectures  on  chem- 
istry, geology,  physiography,  and  other  subjects,  which 
have  an  obvious  bearing  on  the  ordinary  work  of  school, 
a  course  of  good  lectures  on  social  and  economic  science 
will  be  especially  awakening  and  helpful  to  teachers. 
They  occupy  a  public  position  and  their  co-operation 
and  advice  are  occasionally  sought  in  connexion  with 
the  administration  of  local  charities,  with  efforts  for  the 
encouragement  of  thrift,  and  even  of  philanthropic 
agencies  for  providing  food,  clothing,  and  medical  at- 
tendance for  the  poorer  children  attending  the  public 
schools.  But  the  right  administration  of  charity  is  a  fine 
art;  it  depends  on  ascertained  and  verified  facts  and  on 
a  scientific  method  of  dealing  with  those  facts.  It  is  not 
a  business  which  can  be  safely  undertaken  by  persons 
who  have  no  other  equipment  than  kindliness  and  sym- 
pathy with  suffering  and  who  have  neglected  to  trace  out 
the  effects,  often  not  visible  at  first  sight,  of  crude  and 


Science. 


The  Study  of  Nature  323 

inconsiderate  schemes  of  benevolence.  The  economic 
laws  which  concern  the  right  accumulation  and  dis- 
tribution of  wealth,  the  nature  of  the  obligations  which 
different  members  of  a  community  owe  to  each  other, 
and  which  each  member  owes  to  himself,  the  need  of 
thrift,  forethought,  and  self-restraint,  and  the  mischief 
done  by  any  public  measures  which  tend  to  discourage 
the  practice  of  such  virtues,  the  proper  spheres  re- 
spectively of  the  charity  provided  by  public  taxation  on 
the  one  hand  and  of  private  and  voluntary  beneficence 
on  the  other  —  all  these  are  topics  which  if  treated  in 
a  philosophic  and  yet  sympathetic  spirit,  are  of  great 
interest  to  teachers;  because  in  a  higher  degree  than 
most  other  men  they  are  likely  to  have  opportunities 
of  turning  knowledge  of  these  problems  to  practical 
account. 

There  are  other  wide  regions  of  thought  and  of  The  study 
intellectual  experience,  which  the  lectures  of  the  Uni-  °* 
versity  Extension  Society  have  made  accessible,  and  yet 
which  have  been  necessarily  excluded  from  the  course  of 
studies  as  laid  down  by  official  authority;  for  example, 
the  study  of  nature  and  the  study  of  art.  In  particular  I 
may  mention  the  courses  of  lectures,  some  of  which  I 
have  heard,  on  the  history  of  architecture  and  the  charac- 
teristics of  the  styles  prevalent  in  different  ages  and 
countries.  The  student  who  follows  such  a  course  of 
lectures  has  his  eyes  opened  and  becomes  conscious  of 
a  new  power,  I  might  almost  say  a  new  sense.  Every 
public  building  he  sees  has  henceforth  a  new  meaning. 
He  knows  by  what  tokens  he  can  recognize  its  date,  its 
purpose,  and  the  several  elements  which  make  up  its 
beauty  or  utility,  and  the  way  in  which  the  building 
symbolizes  the  wants,  the  tastes,  or  the  religious  belief 
of  those  who  erected  it.     Ever  afterwards,  when  oppor- 


324  University  Extension 

tunities  of  foreign  travel  come,  he  knows  how  to  make 
better  use  of  them. 

and  of  Art.  The  history  of  pictorial  art,  too,  the  symbolism  of 
the  early  Christian  painters,  and  the  different  forms  in 
which  national  character  and  belief  have  found  expression 
in  great  paintings,  is  a  most  stimulating  form  of  mental 
exercise.  Modern  facilities  for  lime-light  and  other  illus- 
trations have  done  much  to  increase  the  interest  and 
value  of  such  lectures.  And  in  fine,  for  the  special 
purpose  I  have  now  in  view,  it  matters  little  what  subject 
is  chosen,  or  whether  it  can  claim  to  be  visibly  connected 
with  the  work  of  the  schoolmaster's  daily  life  or  not.  But 
it  matters  much  whether  or  not  he  can  be  helped  by 
your  lectures  to  take  a  strong  interest  in  some  form  of 
learning  or  enquiry  outside  of  his  profession,  and  so  to 
widen  his  mental  horizon  as  to  become  conscious  of 
the  richness  of  the  world  of  nature,  of  art,  and  of  human 
character,  as  well  as  of  the  world  of  books.  In  other 
words,  one  chief  function  of  the  Extension  lectures  will 
be  to  tempt  teachers  to  over-step  the  boundaries  of  that 
somewhat  arid  region  which  is  dominated  by  a  code  or 
a  syllabus,  and  to  conduct  them  to  "  fresh  woods  and 
pastures  new."  In  the  long  run  the  improvement  in  our 
national  education  must  come,  not  from  Royal  Commis- 
sions and  Acts  of  Parliaments,  but  from  the  improved 
personal  qualifications  of  our  teachers,  and  from  the 
enlargement  of  their  own  range  of  intellectual  interests. 
And  this  is  the  work  in  which  the  agency  of  the  Univer- 
sity Extension  is  specially  fitted  to  take  a  leading  and 
honourable  part. 

Teachers'  Hence,  I  hope  that  special  pains  will  be  taken  by 
the  authorities  to  keep  themselves  in  close  and  friendly 
rapport  with  the  various  local  associations  connected 
with  the  Union  of  Teachers :  that  they  will  endeavour  to 


Teachers'1  Associations  325 


learn  what  is  the  form  of  help  which  those  associations 
think  most  likely  to  prove  useful  and  acceptable  to  the 
members;  and  that  they  will  seek  to  enlist  the  services 
of  School  Boards  and  Voluntary  managers  in  making 
known  in  each  district  the  subjects  of  the  proposed 
courses,  and  the  conditions  of  admission.  Where  the 
financial  arrangements  admit,  it  may  often  be  a  boon  if 
tickets  can  be  granted  to  assistants  and  pupil-teachers  at 
a  reduced  fee.  I  do  not  doubt  that  it  is  the  custom  of 
many  of  your  lecturers  to  give  to  their  audiences  a  list  of 
books  to  be  read  in  the  intervals,  and  also  to  offer  some 
hints  about  plans  of  regular  reading  and  study,  the 
writing  of  abstracts,  comments,  and  criticisms  —  not  for 
purposes  of  examination,  but  mainly  for  the  purpose  of 
fixing  and  assimilating  the  contents  of  the  books  read. 
All  this  kind  of  suggestion  and  guidance  will  be 
welcomed  with  particular  interest  by  solitary  teachers 
engaged  in  efforts  after  self- improvement.  But  these  are 
details. 

The  main  thing  to  be  kept  in  view  is  that  the 
teachers  of  our  popular  schools  form  a  class  who  have 
already  acquired  habits  of  application,  and  who  are 
sometimes  in  danger  of  losing  those  habits.  When 
they  desire  help  in  pursuing  systematic  study,  the 
association  should  be  ready  to  give  it;  but  even  when 
they  desire  no  such  help  as  may  be  turned  to  professional 
account,  but  only  seek  for  new  intellectual  resources  by 
which  to  occupy  their  leisure,  and  give  variety,  freshness, 
and  happiness  to  their  own  domestic  and  intellectual  life, 
they  are  entitled  to  the  special  sympathy  of  the  University 
Extension  lecturer,  and  will  be  able  richly  to  repay  any 
efforts  which  may  be  made  in  their  behalf. 


LECTURE   XI 

JOSEPH    LANCASTER 

Public  education  in  England  at  the  end  of  the  18th  century. 
Philanthropic  efforts.  Private  adventure  schools  for  the  poor. 
Crabbe's  Borough.  Day  schools.  Joseph  Lancaster.  His  early 
life.  His  first  educational  experiment.  Interview  with  the 
King.  Successes.  Dr  Andrew  Bell.  His  work  at  Madras. 
The  National  Society.  The  monitorial  system.  Lancaster's 
plans  of  discipline.  Their  defects.  His  methods  of  instruction. 
The  schools  of  the  National  Society.  Training  of  teachers. 
The  National  and  Lancasterian  systems  compared.  The  treat- 
ment of  the  religious  question.  Lancaster's  disappointments. 
Efforts  of  his  friends  to  help  him.  His  removal  to  America. 
Characters  of  Bell  and  Lancaster  compared.  Their  work 
estimated. 

Public  The  eighteenth  century  was  not  distinguished,  in  our 

education  ,        .    ,  .  ,  .         , 

in  En?-     own  country  at  least,  by  any  important  educational  enter- 

landat Uprise.  Voluntary  associations  and  endowments  had  in 
eighteenth  t'ie  tmie  °f  Queen  Anne  1  brought  into  existence  a  con- 
century.  siderable  number  of  'Charity  '  schools  providing  gratui- 
tous instruction,  clothing,  and  apprentice  premiums.  In 
this  way  a  few  children  selected  by  local  trustees  received, 
under  somewhat  humiliating  conditions,  education  which 
though  mainly  directed  to  secure  the  allegiance  of  the 
scholars  to  the  Established  Church  was,  so  far  as  all  secular 

1  Ante,  p.  193.      Endowments. 
326 


Elementary  Ed  neat  ion  in  1800  327 

subjects  were  concerned,  somewhat  narrowly  restricted  to 
the  humblest  rudiments.  The  provision  for  higher  educa- 
tion of  the  Grammar  or  Classical  type  had  not  received 
any  material  augmentation  during  the  century.  Dry-rot  — 
the  curse  which  falls  so  frequently  upon  endowed  insti- 
tutions when  they  are  left  wholly  without  supervision  — 
had  already  begun  to  reveal  itself.  The  restrictions 
laid  down  in  testaments  and  deeds  of  gift  were  often 
found  to  be  unworkable,  and  ill-adapted  to  the  changed 
necessities  of  the  time,  and  there  was  neither  in  public 
opinion  nor  in  legislation  any  force  available  for 
refprm.  Such  laws  as  the  statute-book  retained  were 
rather  designed  to  check  than  to  encourage  educational 
experiments. 

The  provision  for  general  public  education  was  in 
fact  deplorably  inadequate  in  supply,  and  defective  in 
quality  at  the  end  of  the  century.  There  were  no 
Government  grants,  no  public  arrangements  for  the 
supply  of  necessary  elementary  schools.  It  was  not  till 
nearly  ten  years  afterwards  that  the  two  great  voluntary 
societies  —  the  National  Society  and  the  British  and 
Foreign  School  Society  —  were  founded  and  entered  on 
what  proved  to  be  a  career  of  extensive  public  usefulness; 
nor  until  fifty  years  later  that  Parliament  began  to  be 
sensible  of  the  importance  of  providing,  subsidizing,  and 
directing  the  schools  of  the  people.  Such  schools  as 
were  accessible  to  the  poor  were  the  product  of  private 
enterprise.  The  character  of  that  enterprise  may  be 
inferred  from  the  following  extracts.  Crabbe,  in  writ-  private 
ing  in  1780,  describes  the  schools  of  his  time.  Of  the  adventure 
Dame  School  he  says :  —  the  poor. 

"Where  a  deaf,  poor,  patient  widow  sits 
And  awes  some  thirty  infants  as  she  knits. 


328 


Jose  pit  Lancaster 


Crabbe's 
Borough. 


Day 

Schools. 


Her  room  is  small,  they  cannot  widely  stray  ; 
Her  threshold  high,  they  cannot  run  away. 
Though  deaf,  she  sees  the  rebel-hearers  shout ; 
Though  lame,  her  white  rod  nimbly  walks  about. 
With  band  of  yarn  she  keeps  offenders  in, 
And  to  her  gown  the  sturdiest  rogue  can  pin. 
Aided  by  these,  and  spells,  and  tell-tale  birds, 
Her  power  they  dread,  and  reverence  her  words." 

The  poet's  sketch  of  the  keeper  of  a  boys'  school  is 
evidently  made  from  life  and  is  hardly  more  inviting:  — 

"  Poor  Reuben  Dixon  has  the  noisiest  school 
Of  ragged  lads  who  ever  bowed  to  rule  ; 
Low  in  his  price  —  the  men  who  heave  our  coals 
And  clean  our  causeways  send  him  boys  in  shoals. 
To  see  poor  Reuben  with  his  fry  beside 
Their  half-checked  rudeness,  and  his  half-scorned  pride, 
Their  room,  the  sty  in  which  the  assembly  meet, 
In  the  close  lane  behind  the  Northgate  Street  ; 
To  observe  his  vain  attempts  to  keep  the  peace 
Till  tolls  the  bell,  and  strife  and  troubles  cease, 
Calls  for  our  praise.     His  labour  praise  deserves, 
But  not  our  pity  ;    Reuben  has  no  nerves. 
'Mid  noise  and  dirt  and  stench  and  play  and  prate 
He  calmly  cuts  the  pen  or  views  the  slate."  1 

Here  is  another  picture  by  a  contemporary  writer,  of 
the  elementary  schools  of  the  time  :  — 

"  Initiatory  Schools.  These  are  schools  that  abound  in  every 
poor  neighbourhood  about  London :  they  are  frequented  by  boys 
and  girls,  indiscriminately,  few  of  them  above  seven  years  of  age; 
the  mistress  is  frequently  the  wife  of  some  mechanic,  induced  to 
undertake  this  task  from  a  desire  to  increase  a  scanty  income,  or  to 
add  to  her  domestic  comforts.  The  subjects  of  tuition  are  comprised 
in  reading  and  needlework.  The  number  of  children  that  attend  a 
school  of  this  class  is  very  fluctuating,  and  seldom  exceeds  thirty : 
their  pay  is  very  uncertain.  Disorder,  noise,  &c.  seem  more  the 
characteristic  of  these  schools  than  the  improvement  of  the  little 
ones  who  attend  them." 


1  Crabbe's  Borough,  Letter  xxiv.     Schools. 


Private  adventure  schools  329 

Second  Class  of  Schools.  The  masters  of  these  are  often  the 
refuse  of  superior  schools,  and  too  often  of  society  at  large.  The 
pay  and  number  of  scholars  are  alike  low  and  fluctuating;  of  course 
there  is  little  encouragement  for  steady  men  either  to  engage,  or 
continue  in  this  line,  it  being  impossible  to  keep  school,  defray  its 
expenses,  and  do  the  children  regular  justice,  without  a  regular 
income.  Eventually  many  schools,  respectable  in  better  times,  are 
abandoned  to  men  of  any  character,  who  use  as  much  chicane  to  fill 
their  pockets  as  the  most  despicable  pettifogger.  Writing-books,  &c, 
scribbled  through,  whole  pages  filled  with  scrawls,  to  hasten  the 
demand  for  fresh  books.  These  schools  are  chiefly  attended  by  the 
children  of  artificers,  &c,  whose  pay  fluctuates  with  their  employ, 
and  is  sometimes  withheld  by  bad  principle.  Debts  are  often 
contracted  that  do  not  exceed  a  few  shillings;  then  the  parents 
remove  their  children  from  school  and  never  pay  it,  the  smallness 
of  the  sum  proving  an  effectual  bar  to  its  recovery:  the  trouble 
and  loss  of  time  being  worse  than  the  loss  of  money  in  the  first 
instance.   *  *   *  * 

"  It  is  not  much  to  be  wondered  at  if  these  discouraging 
circumstances  often  produce  deviations  from  strict  rectitude,  where 
principle  is  not  deeply  rooted  in  the  mind,  which  prove  very 
oppressive  to  parents  and  scholars,  as  in  some  instances,  permitting 
the  boys  to  write  five  or  six  copies  in  an  afternoon,  obviously  that 
more  books  may  be  bought  of  the  master  to  his  profit.  In  some 
schools  the  pens  are  scarcely  ever  mended,  and  in  general  the  poor 
children  are  much  stinted  in  this  article.  It  is  very  essential  to  their 
improvement  that  their  pens  should  be  good,  and  it  operates  on  their 
minds  in  a  very  discouraging  manner  when  otherwise.  I  am  credibly 
informed  that  some  masters  use  pinions  in  their  rough  state,  neither 
dutched  nor  clarified;  of  course  they  split  up,  with  teeth  like  a  saw, 
and  write  just  as  well.  *  *   *   * 

"  The  desks  children  write  at  are  often  badly  suited  for  that 
purpose,  the  school-rooms  close  and  confined,  and  almost  all  the 
accommodations  unfit  for  the  purpose.  Independent  of  the  bad 
effects  such  places  produce  on  the  children's  health,  many  having  to 
date  the  ruin  of  their  constitutions  from  confinement  therein  ;  the 
drunkenness  of  a  schoolmaster  is  almost  proverbial.  Those  who 
mean  well  are  not  able  to  do  so  ;  poverty  prevents  it  ;  and  the 
number  of  teachers  who  are  men  of  liberal  minds,  are  few  ;  yet,  not 
being  sensible  of  the  incalculable  advantages  arising  from  system 
and  order,  it  is  no  wonder  if  it  is  at  a  verv  low  ebb  among  them. 


330  JoscpJi  Lancaster 

The  poor  parent  often  becomes  sensible  that  something  is  amiss,  but 
knows  not  what ;  and,  induced  by  this  motive,  hurries  the  child  from 
one  school  to  another  frequently,  and  thereby  makes  bad  worse  ;  and 
is  eventually  disappointed  as  much  as  ever.  The  want  of  system 
and  order  is  almost  uniform  in  every  class  of  schools  within  the 
reach  of  the  poor,  whose  indifferent  attainments  at  school  often  arise 
as  much  from  equal  impatience  and  unsettled  disposition  in  their 
parents,  as  deficiency  of  care  in  the  masters,  or  want  of  order  in  their 
schools.  In  fact  there  is  little  encouragement  for  masters,  parents, 
or  scholars;  and  while  this  is  the  case  it  is  no  wonder  that  ignorance 
prevails  among  the  poor." 

Joseph  These  extracts  are  taken  from  a  pamphlet  entitled 

Lancaster.  « Improvements  in  Education  as  it  respects  the  indus- 
trious classes  of  the  community,"  which  was  published 
in  1802  by  Joseph  Lancaster,  a  young  man  of  24  years  of 
age  who  had  begun  to  take  a  keen  interest  in  the  educa- 
tion of  the  poor.  He  was  the  son  of  a  Chelsea  pensioner, 
an  old  soldier  who  had  served  in  the  American  War,  and 
his  childhood  had  been  passed  in  a  very  humble  but  an 
orderly  and  God-fearing  household.  It  is  very  pathetic 
to  find  how  early  and  how  deeply  his  heart  was  stirred 
with  love  to  God,  and  with  a  desire  to  be  useful  to 
children.  One  incident  will  furnish  a  key  to  much  else 
in  his  strange  impulsive  character,  and  his  wayward  and 
diversified  life. 
His  early  At  the  age  of  14,  Clarkson's  Essay  on  the  slave  trade 
had  fallen  in  the  boy's  way;  and  alone,  without  taking 
anyone  into  his  counsel,  he  determined  to  goto  Jamaica 
to  teach  the  poor  blacks  to  read  the  Word  of  God.  He 
quitted  his  father's  house  in  the  Borough  Road,  without 
the  knowledge  of  his  parents,  and  determined  to  walk  to 
Bristol,  having  only  with  him  a  Bible,  a  Pilgrim 's  Progress, 
and  a  few  shillings  in  his  pocket.  The  first  night  he 
slept  under  a  hedge  and  the  next  under  a  haystack.  On 
his  journey  he  fell  in  with  a  mechanic  who  was  also  going 


His  early  life  331 

to  Bristol.  They  walked  together,  and  as  Joseph's  money 
was  all  expended,  his  companion  sustained  him.  On 
arriving  at  his  destination,  he  was  penniless  and  almost 
shoeless.  He  entered  himself  as  a  soldier  and  was  sent 
to  Milford  Haven  the  next  morning.  "On  board  he  was 
the  object  of  much  ridicule,  and  was  contemptuously 
styled  'parson.'  The  captain  being  absent  one  day, 
the  officers  asked  him  if  he  would  preach  them  a  sermon. 
He  replied,  'Yes,  if  you  will  give  me  leave  to  go  below 
for  half-an-hour  to  read  my  Bible.'  They  said,  'Oh  cer- 
tainly, an  hour  if  you  choose.'  When  he  came  up  there 
was  a  cask  placed  upon  deck,  and  the  ship's  company 
were  all  assembled.  Having  placed  him  on  the  cask  he 
proceeded  to  lecture  them  on  their  habits  of  profane 
swearing  and  drunkenness,  at  first  much  to  their  mirth 
and  amusement,  but  after  a  little  they  began  to  droop 
their  heads,  when  he  told  them  if  they  would  leave  off 
their  wretched  practices,  repent  and  turn  to  the  Lord, 
they  might  still  be  happy  here  and  hereafter.  After  the 
sermon  he  was  treated  kindly,  no  one  was  suffered  to 
laugh  at  him  or  use  him  ill  during  the  three  weeks  he 
remained  on  board."  l 

By  the  interposition  of  friends  he  soon  obtained  his 
discharge  and  returned  home.  But  he  was  restless  and 
uneasy,  unwilling  to  devote  himself  to  any  trade,  and 
longing  to  be  at  more  congenial  work. 

"  It  was  my  early  wish,"  he  said  in  his  autobiography, 
"to  spend  my  life  to  the  glory  of  Him  who  gave  it,  and 
in  promoting  the  happiness  of  my  fellow  men.  With  this 
view  I  looked  forward  to  the  dissenting  ministry  at  the 
age  of  16,  but  it  pleased  God  to  favour  me  with  such 
different  views  of  things  that  I  became,  a  frequenter  of 
the  religious  meetings  of  the  Society  of  Christians  called 

1  Sketches  by  Henry  Dunn. 


332 


JoscpJi  Lancaster 


His  fir  si 
educa- 
tional ex- 


Quakers,  and  ultimately  a  member  of  that  society.  Soon 
after  this  my  attention  was  directed  to  the  education  of 
the  poor." 

In  1798,  when  only  20  years  of  age,  he  made  his 
first  public  effort  in  this  direction.  Even  this  effort 
periment.  was  not  wholly  tentative  and  experimental,  since  he  had 
two  years  earlier  already  gathered  a  few  children  at  his 
father's  house,  and  had  been  for  several  months  busy  in 
instructing  them,  and  gaining  confidence  in  himself  and 
his  work.  He  hired  a  large  room  in  the  Borough  Road, 
and  put  up  an  announcement,  "All  that  will  may  send 
their  children  and  have  them  educated  freely,  and  those 
who  do  not  wish  to  have  education  for  nothing  may  pay 
for  it  if  they  please."  This  invitation  was  largely  ac- 
cepted, and  even  in  his  twenty-first  year  he  had  nearly 
a  thousand  children  round  him.  "They  come  to  me  for 
education  like  flocks  of  sheep,"  he  said.  The  attention 
of  several  eminent  men,  among  whom  were  the  Duke  of 
Bedford,  Lord  Somerville,  and  Mr  Whitbread,  was  directed 
to  him,  and  the  report  of  his  usefulness  began  to  spread. 
Nevertheless,  the  undertaking  was  full  of  difficulties. 
Success  came  faster  than  he  was  prepared  to  meet  it. 
Although  a  few  private  friends  assisted  him  with  money, 
the  responsibility  which  came  upon  him  was  heavy 
enough  to  have  appalled  a  far-seeing  or  judicious  man. 
Lancaster,  however,  was  neither  far-seeing  nor  judicious. 
He  was  elated  by  his  success.  He  was  upheld  through 
all  the  difficulties  of  his  bold  enterprise  not  only  by 
an  earnest  faith  in  his  own  powers,  but  by  an  affec- 
tionate interest  in  the  children  whom  he  taught.  lake 
all  true  teachers,  he  loved  his  work,  and  entered  into  it 
with  all  his  soul.  "A  loving  heart,''  some  one  has  said, 
"is  the  beginning  of  all  knowledge."  It  is  also  the 
beginning  of  all  teaching  power.     There  is  something 


First  educational  experiments  333 

very  simple  and  touching  in  the  stories  which  are  told  of 
his  personal  intercourse  with  the  poor  and  ragged  little 
ones  whom  he  gathered  from  the  streets.  He  rejoiced 
to  share  in  their  play.  If  he  found  that  any  of  them 
were  hungry  or  destitute,  he  would  raise  a  subscription, 
and  provide  dinner  for  them,  himself  presiding  at  their 
meal.  "  On  Sunday  evenings  he  would  have  large  com- 
panies of  pupils  to  tea,  and  after  enjoying  very  pleasant 
intercourse,  would  conclude  with  reading  a  portion  of 
the  Scriptures  in  a  reverential  manner."  Nothing 
delighted  him  more  than  to  place  himself  at  the  head 
of  his  whole  troop,  and  to  march  out  with  them  for  a 
holiday  ramble  in  the  country.  He  was  never  weary  of 
devising  new  forms  of  gratification  for  them.  He 
thought  no  personal  sacrifice  great  which  helped  to 
increase  his  own  knowledge  of  the  scholars,  and  to  give 
him  greater  power  of  being  useful  to  them.  He  illus- 
trated in  his  own  person  Coleridge's  well-known  lines :  — 

"  Sweet  is  the  tear  that  from  some  Howard's  eye 
Drops  on  the  cheek  of  one  he  lifts  from  earth. 
He  that  does  me  good  with  unmoved  face 
Does  it  but  half,  he  chills  me  while  he  aids  ; 
Mv  benefactor,  not  my  brother  man.  "  1 

To  this  remarkable  sympathy  with  children  was 
naturally  united  a  rare  power  of  gaining  their  affections 
and  securing  their  obedience.  It  is  not  surprising  there- 
fore, that  his  friends  were  very  soon  able  to  point  to 
some  very  striking  and  tangible  results  of  his  scheme. 
The  large  school-room  in  the  Borough  Road,  into  which 
he  marched  in  high  triumph  at  the  head  of  1000  boys, 
presented  to  the  visitors 'who  thronged  to  see  it,  an  orderly 
and  beautiful  spectacle.     It  is  true,  that  for  several  hun- 

1  Meditative  Poems. 


334  JosepJi  Lancaster 

dred  children  there  was  but  one  master,  but  he  had  for 
his  assistants  a  picked  company  of  the  elder  boys,  who 
looked  up  to  him  with  reverence,  and  rejoiced  to  carry  out 
his  plans.  The  material  appliances  for  teaching  were  of 
the  scantiest  kind;  a  few  leaves  torn  out  of  spelling  books 
and  pasted  on  boards,  some  slates,  and  a  large  flat  desk 
on  which  the  little  ones  wrote  with  their  fingers  in  sand. 
But  such  work  as  was  possible  with  these  materials  was 
faithfully  and  energetically  done.  It  is  no  small  thing  to 
say,  that  by  his  method  reading,  writing,  and  simple  arith- 
metic were  really  taught.  The  children  were  indeed  unpro- 
mising and  often  unshod,  and  had  been  gathered  together 
from  dirty  and  ill-ordered  homes;  but  there  was  a  cheer- 
fulness in  their  deportment,  and  a  military  precision  in 
their  order  and  movements  which  were  very  remarkable 
and  which  formed  a  striking  contrast,  not  only  to  the 
habits  from  which  they  had  been  rescued  but  also  to  the 
usual  aspect  even  of  the  best  schools  of  the  day.  Joseph 
Lancaster  had  the  skill  which  gains  the  loyalty  of  subor- 
dinates, and  he  knew  how  to  inspire  his  monitors  with 
fondness  for  their  work,  and  with  pride  in  the  institution 
of  which  they  formed  a  part.  As  these  youths  became 
more  trustworthy,  he  felt  himself  more  at  leisure  to 
accept  some  of  the  many  invitations  which  crowded 
upon  him,  and  to  expound  his  system  by  lectures  in 
various  towns.  His  popularity  increased:  his  school 
excited  daily  more  sympathy  and  public  attention,  and 
was  visited,  as  he  himself  said  with  pardonable  vanity, 
"by  persons  of  the  first  rank  in  the  nation." 
Interview  His  fortunes  may  be  said  to  have  reached  their 
A7«p-  e  highest  point  in  1805,  when  the  King  sent  for  him  to 
Weymouth,  and  desired  to  have  an  account  of  his  doings. 
The  interview  is  thus  described  in  a  memoir  left  behind 
him  by  Mr   William  Corston,  one  of  Lancaster's  most 


Interview  with  the  King  335 

faithful  and  disinterested  friends:  "On  entering  the 
royal  presence,  the  King  said,  'Lancaster,  I  have  sent 
for  you  to  give  me  an  account  of  your  system  of  educa- 
tion, which  I  hear  has  met  with  opposition.  One  master 
teach  500  children  at  the  same  time  !  How  do  you  keep 
them  in  order,  Lancaster  ?  '  Lancaster  replied,  'Please 
thy  Majesty,  by  the  same  principle  thy  Majesty's  army  is 
kept  in  order,  by  the  word  of  command.'  His  Majesty 
replied,  'Good,  good;  it  does  not  require  an  aged  gen- 
eral to  give  the  command;  one  of  younger  years  can 
do  it.'  Lancaster  observed  that  in  his  schools  the 
teaching  branch  was  performed  by  youths,  who  acted  as 
monitors.  The  King  assented,  and  said, 'Good.'  Lan- 
caster then  described  his  system,  and  he  informed  me 
that  they  all  paid  great  attention  and  were  highly  de- 
lighted; and  as  soon  as  he  had  finished,  his  Majesty  said, 
'Lancaster,  I  highly  approve  of  your  system  and  it  is  my 
wish  that  every  poor  child  in  my  dominions  should  be 
taught  to  read  the  Bible;  I  will  do  anything  you  wish  to 
promote  this  object.' 

"'Please  thy  Majesty,'  said  Lancaster,  'if  the  system 
meets  thy  Majesty's  approbation,  I  can  go  through  the 
country  and  lecture  on  the  system,  and  have  no  doubt 
but  in  a  few  months  I  shall  be  able  to  give  thy  Majesty 
an  account  where  ten  thousand  poor  children  are  being 
educated,  and  some  of  my  youths  instructing  them.' 
His  Majesty  immediately  replied,  'Lancaster,  I  will 
subscribe  ^100  annually;  and,'  addressing  the  Queen, 
'you  shall  subscribe  ^50,  Charlotte;  and  the  princesses 
^25  each,'  and  then  added  'Lancaster,  you  may  have 
the  money  directly.'  Lancaster  observed,  'Please  thy 
Majesty,  that  will  be  setting  thy  nobles  a  good  example.' 
The  royal  party  appeared  to  smile  at  this  observation: 
but  the  Queen  observed  to  his  Majesty,  '  How  cruel  it  is 


336  Joseph  Lancaster 

that  enemies  should  be  found  who  endeavour  to  hinder 
his  progress  in  so  good  a  work.'     To  which  the  King 
replied,  'Charlotte,  a  good  man  seeks  his  reward  in  the 
world  to  come.'     Joseph  then  withdrew." 
Successes.  The  success  and  popularity  which  attended  him  may 

be  judged  from  the  fact  that  in  his  report  for  1810  he 
sums  up  his  work  by  stating  that  he  has  given  67  lectures, 
has  travelled  3,775  miles,  and  addressed  23,840  hearers, 
raised  /^i,66o  in  subscriptions  after  his  lectures,  besides 
^1,440  contributed  afterwards,  and  that  fifty  new  schools 
had  been  opened,  with  14,200  scholars.  A  deputation 
from  one  of  the  South  American  republics  had  visited  the 
Borough  Road  and  afterwards  sent  young  men  to  learn 
the  system  and  introduce  it  into  the  Caracas.  Schools 
on  the  monitorial  system  were  introduced  into  the  lead- 
ing American  cities,  and  the  Duke  of  Kent  —  our  Queen's 
father  — adopted  the  Lancasterian  methods  in  the  Army 
Schools. 
Dr  All  this  while,  another  and  parallel  movement  was 

B^l[eW  g°'nS  on>  i'1  the  same  general  direction,  but  in  a  some- 
what different  spirit.  Andrew  Bell,  the  son  of  a  barber 
in  S.  Andrews,  was  25  years  older  than  Lancaster,  and 
after  a  short  course  of  education  in  the  University  of  his 
native  city,  went  out  into  the  world  as  a  private  tutor. 
He  travelled  first  with  a  pupil  to  Virginia,  where  he 
contrived  by  tobacco  speculations  to  make  a  little  fortune 
of  ^900  in  four  or  five  years.  He  returned  to  England, 
took  orders  in  the  Church,  and  in  1787  went  out  to  India 
with  a  rather  vague  intention  of  lecturing  on  natural 
philosophy  and  doing  other  work  by  way  of  tuition.  He 
was  always  very  skilful  in  self-assertion  and  he  achieved 
unexpected  success  in  bringing  his  merits  under  the 
notice  of  governors  and  people  of  influence.  He  was 
appointed  to  one  or  two  lucrative  military  chaplaincies, 


Dr  Andrew  Bell  337 

and  also  to  the  office  of  Superintendent  of  the  Military 
Male  Orphan  Asylum  at  Madras.  It  was  in  this  institu- 
tion that  owing  to  the  difficulty  of  getting  suitable  adult 
assistants,  and  of  managing  and  retaining  them,  he  was 
driven  to  the  device  of  breaking  up  the  school  into  small 
classes  and  setting  the  elder  boys  to  teach  the  younger. 
The  success  of  this  experiment  during  nine  years  was 
unexpectedly  encouraging.  "I  think,"  he  said,  "I  have 
made  great  progress  and  almost  wrought  a  complete 
change  in  the  morals  and  character  of  a  generation  of 
boys." 

The  year  after  returning  home  in  1796  he  published  The 
a  pamphlet,  "An  Experiment  in  Education  made  at  the'  a  ras 

'         l  '  ■  .       1  system. 

Male  Asylum  of  Madras,  suggesting  a  system  by  which  a 

school  or  family  may  teach  itself  under  the  superintend- 
ence of  the  master  or  parent."  He  had  during  his  resi- 
dence in  India  succeeded  in  more  ways  than  one;  for  by 
some  of  those  inscrutable  methods  by  which  fortunes 
were  sometimes  made  in  India  in  the  old  "Company" 
days,  he  —  a  clergyman  and  a  schoolmaster  —  managed  to 
get  together  and  to  bring  home  ^26,000.  His  pamphlet 
was  dedicated  to  the  Directors  of  the  East  India  Com- 
pany and  was  largely  circulated  among  the  clergy,  many 
of  whom  were  becoming  awake  to  the  importance  of  pub- 
lic education.  Thus  schools  on  what  was  called  his  sys- 
tem began  to  be  founded  in  various  parts  of  England. 
It  will  be  seen  that  in  point  of  time  his  publication 
preceded  Lancaster's  first  tract  by  four  or  five  years. 
Lancaster  read  it  with  much  interest,  acknowledged  his 
obligations  to  it  for  many  hints,  and  wrote  to  Bell  in  1804 
mentioning  some  of  his  difficulties,  asking  for  advice,  and 
proposing  to  come  down  for  consultation  to  Swanage, 
where  Bell  had  been  comfortably  installed  in  a  good  liv- 
ing. The  meeting  was  friendly,  and  up  to  this  time  no 
z 


338  JoscpJi  Lancaster 

anger  or  rivalry  had  arisen.  When  it  did  arise,  it  must 
be  owned  that  it  shewed  itself  rather  in  the  controversies 
of  the  friends  and  partizans  of  the  two  men,  than  in  any 
personal  antagonism  between  themselves.  For  by  this 
time  the  alarm  had  been  sounded  in  what  is  technically 
called  the  "religious  world."  Lancaster  was  a  Quaker, 
his  system,  though  animated  by  an  intensely  religious 
spirit,  and  though  the  reading  and  explanation  of  the 
Bible  were  strongly  insisted  on,  was  avowedly  unsectarian, 
and  all  creeds  and  formularies  of  faith,  all  attempts  to 
turn  the  school  into  a  propaganda  for  the  tenets  of  any 
particular  denomination  of  Christians  were  rigidly  inter- 
dicted. Hence  to  some  of  the  dignitaries  of  the  Church, 
to  Southey  and  the  writers  of  the  Quarterly  Review,  and 
especially  to  Mrs  Trimmer,  a  courageous,  facile,  but  nar- 
row and  fanatical  writer,  much  in  favour  with  our  grand- 
fathers and  mothers,  the  system  of  Lancaster  seemed 
fraught  with  terrible  peril  to  Church  and  State.  Lan- 
caster was  described  as  an  infidel  and  atheist  by  preachers 
and  in  archidiaconal  and  episcopal  charges.  For  ex- 
ample, Archdeacon  Daubeny  in  his  Visitation  Charge 
at  Salisbury  in  1806  denounced  Lancaster  as  an  infidel, 
and  his  system  of  education  as  "deism  under  the  impos- 
ing guise  of  philanthropy,  making  a  covert  approach  to 
the  fortress  of  Christianity  with  a  view  to  be  admitted 
within  her  walls." 
The  Thus  the  "system  "  of  Bell,  with  which,  though  it  was 

J1  l°"a  no  organic  part  of  his  original  plan,  the  rigorous  dogmatic 
teaching  of  the  Prayer  Book  and  Catechism  became 
identified,  was  believed  by  many  good  people  to  be  the 
only  possible  system  of  religious  education.  In  181 1 
the  "National  Society  for  the  Education  of  the  Poor 
in  the  principles  of  the  Established  Church "  set  up 
its    head-quarters    at    the    Sanctuary   at    Westminster, 


The  Monitorial  System  339 

attracted  powerful  episcopal  and  social  patronage,  and 
pursued  its  course  in  avowed  hostility  to  Lancaster  and 
his  system.  Exaggerated  denunciation  of  that  system 
as  "godless  "  and  politically  mischievous,  provoked  an 
equally  exaggerated  estimate  of  its  claims  and  merits  on 
the  other  side.1  Not  only  Quakers  and  other  dissenters, 
but  liberal  Churchmen,  Whig  statesmen,  the  Edinburgh 
Review,  Sydney  Smith,  Lord  Brougham,  and  the  whole 
of  that  educational  party  which  ultimately  founded  the 
Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge,  and 
the  London  University  College,  besides  one  or  two  of 
the  Royal  princes,  notably  the  Duke  of  Sussex  and  the 
Duke  of  Kent,  identified  themselves  with  Lancaster  and 
his  system,  and  repaid  with  interest  the  acrimony  of 
orthodox  criticism. 

The  Edinburgh  Review  said  of  the  Monitorial  System  The  Mont- 
that  "Lancaster  had  devised  a  method  and  brought  '^SvsLm 
very  near  to  perfection,  by  which  education  could  be 
placed  within  the  reach  of  the  poorest."  From  time 
to  time  it  was  lauded  by  Whig  writers  as  "a  beautiful 
discovery,  an  inestimable  discovery,  a  most  valuable 
method." 

The  Society,  at  first  called  the  Royal  Lancasterian 
Society,  was  founded  in  1808  and  received  large  sub- 
scriptions and  constant  accessions  of  powerful  friends. 
In  this  way  the  world  began  to  think  that  there  were 
two    fundamentally  different   "systems"    of    education 

1  In  "  algebra  and  geometry,  even  the  sublime  theorems  of 
Newton  and  La  Place  may  be  taught  by  this  method.  *  *  We  do 
not  hesitate  to  say  that  it  is  applicable  or  may  soon  be  applied  to 
the  whole  circle  of  human  knowledge."  —  Edinburgh  Review,  181 1. 
"  I  confess  that  I  recognize  in  Lancaster  the  benefactor  of  the  human 
race.  I  consider  his  system  as  creating  a  new  era  in  education."  — 
De  Witt  Clinton  at  the  opening  of  a  new  Free  School  in  New  York, 
1810. 


340  Joseph  Lancaster 

carried  on  under  the  names  of  these  rivals.  Yet  the 
differences  were  not  essential  but  were  rather  accidental 
products  of  later  circumstances.  Rival  societies  are 
very  naturally  tempted  to  accentuate  their  differences 
and  to  develop  work,  even  though  it  be  the  same 
work,  in  different  ways.  To  both  men  the  idea  had 
occurred  to  teach  by  means  of  monitors,  and  the  method 
of  teaching  writing  on  sand  desks  which  had  been  sug- 
gested to  Bell  by  seeing  the  native  beys  make  drawings 
with  their  fingers  on  the  sandy  fields  of  Madras,  had  been 
adopted  by  both  of  them.  Otherwise  the  two  men 
worked  independently. 
Lan-  Lancaster,  though  a  "Friend,"  evolved  an  elaborate 

CTlamof  system  OI  military  drill,  reduced  the  whole  school  to 
discipline,  companies,  and  specially  prided  himself  on  having  solved 
many  practical  difficulties  by  applying  to  a  school  the 
organization  of  a  regiment,  with  all  its  evolutions  under 
the  word  of  command.  His  system  of  badges,  tickets, 
and  rewards  were  designed  expressly  to  cultivate  in 
every  child  the  ambition  to  play  a  useful  part  in  the 
organization  of  the  whole  school.  He  believed  that 
boys,  whose  activity  when  ill-regulated  becomes  a  source 
of  nothing  but  mischief,  liked  order,  method,  and  the 
responsibilities  of  office,  when  a  little  honour  and  emolu- 
ment could  be  had  in  exercising  them.  He  sought  to 
multiply  little  offices  and  to  give  every  scholar  plenty  to 
do,  and  a  motive  for  getting  higher,  and  doing  something 
better.  The  gradation  of  ranks  among  the  monitors,  the 
confidence  which  was  placed  in  them,  and  the  rewards 
and  honours  which  were  accessible  to  them,  rendered 
the  office  an  object  of  general  ambition.  They  furnished 
a  stimulus  to  the  efforts  of  the  younger  children  and 
fostered  in  the  monitors  themselves  a  spirit  of  manliness 
and  self-respect,  which  though  apt  to  assume  here  and 


Lancaster  s  methods  341 

there  the  form  of  tyranny  and  conceit  contrasted  strik- 
ingly with  the  sullen,  hopeless  way  in  which  school  work 
was  often  done.  The  discipline  of  Lancaster's  schools 
was  not  marked  alone  by  beauty  and  military  precision. 
The  whole  tone  of  the  place  was  joyous,  duties  were  agree- 
ably varied  from  hour  to  hour,  and  though  the  noise  often 
bewildered  and  stunned  a  visitor,  it  was  at  least  the  noise 
of  animated  work,  and  was  succeeded  in  an  instant  at  the 
word  'Halt '  by  perfect  stillness.  Those  who  remember 
the  aspect  of  the  old  Lancasterian  School  have  testified 
that  a  brighter  and  happier  scene  could  scarcely  be  wit- 
nessed;—  "a  place  for  everything  and  everything  in  its 
place,"  a  large  multitude  of  children  all  busy  and  de- 
lighted, and  an  army  of  monitors  loyal  to  their  master, 
full  of  zeal  to  please  him,  and  proud  of  the  beauty  and 
fame  of  the  spectacle  of  which  they  formed  a  part. 

It  is  impossible,  however,  for  a  modern  teacher  to  Their 
imitate,  or  even  to  justify  all  his  plans  of  discipline.  His  defects* 
dislike  of  flogging  was  so  great  that  he  taxed  his  ingenuity 
to  devise  other  forms  of  punishment.  The  result  as 
printed  in  his  tracts  is  sufficiently  grotesque.  There 
are  chapters  gravely  headed  "of  Logs,"  "of  Shackles," 
"of  the  Basket"  (a  contrivance  in  which  refractory 
boys  were  slung  up  into  the  roof  of  the  schoolroom  by  a 
pulley,  and  remained  suspended  there,  for  the  ridicule  of 
the  rest,  as  birds  in  the  cage).  These  and  other  expe- 
dients by  which  he  sought  to  avoid  the  actual  infliction 
of  bodily  pain  appear  to  us  puerile  and  mischievous. 
They  appealed  to  the  sense  of  shame  only,  they  must 
often  have  wounded  sensitive  children  and  hardened 
rude  ones;  and  they  had  the  fatal  defect  of  encouraging 
that  habit  of  laughing  at  wrong-doing  and  getting 
amusement  out  of  it,  which  is  so  hurtful  to  the  con- 
science of  a  child. 


342  Joseph  Lancaster 

His  As  to  what  was  called  his  method  of   instruction, 

there  is  after  all  little  to  be  said.     His  aims  were  very 

oj  in-  J 

struction.  humble,  they  did  not  go  beyond  the  reading  of  the  Bible, 
writing,  spelling,  and  casting  accounts.  And  his  notion 
of  the  way  in  which  these  things  were  to  be  taught  were 
somewhat  crude  and  mechanical.  There  was  none  of  the 
philosophy  of  education  to  be  traced  in  it.  Here  for 
example  is  the  account  which  he  gives  in  his  "Improve- 
ments in  Education  "  of  his  method  of  teaching  to  spell. 
After  describing  the  way  in  which  monitors  could  most 
expeditiously  look  over  the  slates  of  a  large  class  he  says : 
"  If  20  boys  thus  spell  200  words  each,  the  same 
number  spelt  by  60  boys  must  produce  a  great  increase 
of  total.  Each  boy  can  spell  100  words  in  a  morning. 
If  100  scholars  can  do  the  200  mornings  yearly,  the 
following  will  be  the  total  of  their  efforts  towards  im- 
provement." And  then  he  sets  forth  in  triumph  with  a 
note  of  admiration  at  the  end  this  multiplication  sum: 
"  100  words 

200  mornings 

20,000  words  spelt  by  each  boy  per  annum. 
100  boys 

2,000,000  total  words  spelt  in  one  year." 

This  rather  absurd  calculation,  put  forth  gravely  and 
in  perfect  good  faith,  was  characteristic  of  his  notion  of 
education.  His  mode  of  teaching  arithmetic  was 
equally  mechanical.  A  plan  which  would  save  the  time 
of  boys  in  computing,  secure  the  supervision  needful  to 
prevent  copying  and  so  cause  a  greater  number  of  sums 
to  be  done  in  a  given  time,  seemed  to  him  the  chief  thing 
to  be  desired.  Of  the  understanding  of  the  rules  there 
is  no  hint.  If,  however,  the  instruction  in  the  schools 
was  limited  to  the  barest  rudiments,  if  it  included  little 


The  National  Schools  343 

or  nothing  which  appealed  to  the  understanding  or  the 
taste,  two  or  three  things  must  be  considered.  The 
work  was  done  at  a  very  small  expense  and  with  very 
poor  material.  His  school  of  1,000  boys  was  carried  on 
under  one  master  at  the  annual  cost  of  five  shillings  per 
head.  Moreover  the  boys  and  girls  did  undoubtedly 
learn  to  read,  write,  and  bring  out  the  answers  in  arith- 
metic, and  to  do  these  things  well.  If  to  this  we  add 
that  they  also  learned  order  and  obedience,  acquired  the 
sense  of  corporate  life,  became  conscious  of  their  duty 
to  others,  and  were  constantly  and  affectionately  ad- 
dressed by  their  master  about  their  duty  to  God,  we 
must  own  that  the  results  even  from  an  educational  point 
of  view  were  not  insignificant. 

In  the  schools  of  the  National  Society,  which  were  The 
conducted  on  what  was  called  the  Madras  system,  the  uhooJs 

.  of  (he 

results  were  not  dissimilar.  It  is  true  Bell  himself  found  National 
it  necessary  very  early  to  soothe  the  apprehensions  of  Society. 
some  of  his  friends,  by  declaring  that  the  children  of  the 
poor  ought  not  to  have  too  much  education,  and  by 
expressing  grave  doubts  whether  writing  and  ciphering 
were  not  rather  dangerous  arts,  which  would  make  the 
poor  too  good  for  their  station,  and  undermine  the 
foundations  of  society.  Rather  with  a  view  to  reassure 
some  of  his  influential  friends  than  to  express  his  own 
convictions,  one  of  his  pamphlets  contains  this  sen- 
tence :  "  It  is  not  proposed  to  educate  the  poor  in  an 
expensive  manner;  for  in  Utopian  schemes  for  the  uni- 
versal diffusion  of  general  knowledge,  there  is  a  risk  of 
elevating  those  who  are  doomed  to  the  drudgery  of  daily 
labour,  above  their  station;  and  rendering  them  unhappy 
and  discontented  with  their  lot."  To  read  the  Bible  and 
learn  the  Catechism,  and  to  betaken  to  church  on  Sundays, 
made  up  a  programme  which  satisfied  the  supporters  of 


344  Joseph  Lancaster 

the  National  Society  for  many  years.  If  Lancaster  failed 
to  teach  Grammar  or  Geography  or  the  principles  of 
Arithmetic,  it  was  not  because  he  would  not  gladly  have 
given  these  things  to  the  poor  children  if  he  could;  but 
simply  because  his  resources  and  his  agents  were  unequal 
to  the  work.  But  Bell's  friends,  inheriting  the  feeling 
towards  the  poor  which  was  dominant  in  the  mind  of 
the  founders  of  Charity  Schools  a  century  earlier,1  were 
often  wont  to  describe  their  own  schemes  of  education 
as  calculated  rather  to  repress  than  to  stimulate  intel- 
lectual activity.  The  modest  curriculum  of  the  National 
Schools  and  of  the  British  Schools  alike  was  limited 
in  its  range,  but  in  the  one  case  it  was  limited  by 
circumstances  only,  in  the  other  by  deliberate  intention 
and  on  principle.  At  all  events  Bell  was  able  to  assure 
those  of  his  supporters  who  had  misgivings  about  his 
scheme,  that  nothing  dangerously  ambitious  or  subver- 
sive of  the  social  order  would  be  taught  in  his  schools. 
Otherwise  the  differences  between  the  two  plans  were 
unimportant.  Lancaster  liked  small  classes  of  ten  or 
twelve,  standing  in  a  semicircle;  Bell  arranged  a  rather 
larger  number  in  three  sides  of  a  square  and  seated  on 
forms.  Lancaster  grouped  all  his  writing-desks  in  one 
large  mass,  filling  up  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  facing 
a  high  platform  with  an  "estrade"  for  the  master;  Bell 
placed  his  desks  round  the  walls  of  the  room.  Lancaster 
believed  in  the  stimulus  and  corporate  life  which  are 
associated  with  large  numbers.  Bell  and  the  National 
Society  preferred  schools  of  moderate  size,  not  exceeding 
two  or  at  most  three  hundred. 
Training  Very  early  in  the  development  of  both  experiments, 
of  teachers,  ^g  question  how  to  provide  a  race  of  teachers  qualified 

1  Ante,  p.  193. 


The  'National '  and  'British  '  systems       345 

to  carry  on  monitorial  schools  became  urgent,  and  each 
of  the  two  societies  made  an  attempt  to  train  school- 
masters and  mistresses  for  their  work.  The  training, 
however,  was  very  crude  and  inadequate,  and  in  the  light 
of  modern  experience  hardly  deserves  to  be  called  train- 
ing at  all.  Men  and  women  went  to  the  Borough  Road 
or  to  Westminster  for  three  months  to  "  learn  the  system  " 
as  it  was  termed;  and  this  learning  of  the  system  con- 
sisted in  spending  a  week  or  more  in  each  of  the  classes 
from  the  lowest  to  the  highest,  and  towards  the  end 
of  the  time,  spending  a  few  days  in  taking  the  general 
oversight  in  turns  of  one  section  of  the  school,  and  finally 
conducting  its  collective  drill  and  evolutions  as  a  whole. 
There  were  no  private  studies,  no  regular  instruction  for 
the  candidates  in  the  subjects  they  had  to  teach,  no  lec- 
tures or  exposition  of  method.  The  system  was  to  be 
learned  by  seeing  it  in  operation,  and  by  that  alone. 
Here,  again,  there  was  a  difference  between  the  practice 
of  the  Lancasterian,  and  of  the  National  Society's  Model 
School.  At  the  Borough  Road,  each  candidate  in  train- 
ing put  himself  beside  the  monitor,  and  after  a  short 
time  took  the  monitor's  place  occasionally,  and  so  be- 
came acquainted  with  all  the  details  of  the  monitorial 
work  from  the  bottom  of  the  school  to  the  top.  But  the 
National  Society  made  the  poor  trainee  take  the  place 
of  a  scholar,  in  each  class  in  succession,  and  I  have  been 
told  by  those  who  have  witnessed  it,  how  absurd  a  spec- 
tacle was  presented  when  tall,  full-grown  men  were  seen 
sitting  meekly  in  their  places  with  little  children,  being 
often  taken  down  by  them  to  a  lower  place,  and  directed 
in  their  movements  by  an  upstart  little  boy  who  was 
monitor  of  the  class. 

Bell  was  very  proud  of  his  system,  seriously  believed 
it  to  be  the  grandest  and  most  beneficent  discovery  ever 


346  JoscpJi  Lancaster 

made,  and  went  about  the  country  lecturing  in  order  to 
propagate  his  views  and  to  encourage  the  establishment 
of  new  Church  schools.     Yet  all  the  while  he  had  a  very 
keen  eye  to  the  main  chance,  and  found  that  fame  and 
fortune  came    to  him   together.      In   1801   he  became 
Rector  of  Swanage,  then  a  valuable  preferment.     After- 
wards he  was  nominated  to  the  Mastership  of  a  rich 
endowed  Hospital  at  Sherburn  in  Durham,   then  to  a 
Canonry  at  Worcester,  then  to  a  Canonry  at  Westminster. 
Mr  Meiklejohn,  the  present  able  occupant  of  the  Chair 
of  Education  in  St  Andrews  University,  founded  by  Bell's 
Trustees,  quotes  in  his  interesting  life  of  Bell  a  letter 
from  one  of  his  friends  who  knew  him  and  his  character 
well,  "  Don't  moderate  your  ambition  to  Sherburn  Hospi- 
tal, but  continue  your  progress  to  the  mitre.      For  very 
little  money  you  may  be  paragraphed  up  to  the  episcopal 
throne."     Indeed  there  were  many  people  so  sensible 
of  the  services  Bell  had  rendered  to  the  Church,  that  he 
was  regarded  as  a  very  deserving  candidate  for  the  highest 
ecclesiastical  preferment.     He  himself  was  strongly  of 
that  opinion,   but  the  whole  of  his  ambition  was  not 
gratified.     He  contrived,  however,  to  accumulate  a  for- 
tune of  ;£i  20,000.     His  virtues  were  lauded  in  a  flatter- 
ing biography  by  Southey,  and  by  a  yet  more  enduring 
monument  in  Westminster  Abbey,  representing  him  seated 
by  the  side  of  a  class  of  poor  boys  while  the  monitor  is 
teaching  them  to  read.     His  life,  though  privately  not 
happy,  nor  eminently  estimable,  was  undoubtedly  one  of 
much  honour,  prosperity,  and  public  usefulness. 
Lait-  Very  different  was  the  career  of  poor  Joseph  Lancas- 

'mhfor       ter*     ^*s  f°rtunes  reached  their  highest  point  in  1805 
tunes.        when  he  had  his  memorable  interview  with  the  King. 
Powerful  friends  took  him  by  the  hand;   contributions 
flowed  in;  but   he  had  never  been  accustomed   to  the 


Lancaster  s  misfortunes  347 

management  of  money  and  he  did  not  know  its  value. 
He  had  no  foresight,  and  the  sums  which  he  could  com- 
mand, though  often  large,  came  into  his  hands  in  a  fitful 
and  uncertain  way  which  only  served  to  encourage  his 
improvident  habits.  When  a  good  subscription  came  in 
he  would  spend  it  recklessly  in  treats  and  presents  to  his 
scholars,  or  would  take  a  whole  party  of  his  favourite 
youths  into  the  country  with  him  to  illustrate  his  lectures, 
and  show  how  the  system  was  worked.  In  181 1  he 
visited  Ireland,  gave  many  lectures,  and  was  instrumental 
in  establishing  a  model  school  in  Dublin,  which  was 
placed  under  the  care  of  one  of  his  young  men  from  the 
Borough  Road,  and  which  achieved  some  permanent 
success.  At  Hull,  Newcastle,  York,  and  Leeds,  he  was 
generously  welcomed,  and  during  a  single  year  was  able 
to  say  that  a  new  Lancasterian  School  had  been  opened 
in  every  week.  His  letters  during  this  period  are  filled 
with  expressions  of  enthusiasm  and  hope.  But  the  least 
rebuff  or  opposition  wounded  his  vain  and  sensitive 
nature  to  the  quick,  and  overwhelmed  him  with  despair. 
His  enthusiastic  temperament  led  him  to  exaggerate  both 
his  failures  and  his  successes,  and  to  fancy  that  every 
incident  which  depressed  or  gladdened  him  was  a  special 
Divine  visitation. 

"I  called  at  the  Borough  Road,"  wrote  one  of  his 
friends,  "to  enquire  about  the  training  of  a  master,  and 
after  some  conversation  with  Lancaster  relating  to  the 
necessary  arrangements  for  the  man's  attendance,  I 
slipped  a  ^10  note  into  his  hand  as  an  acknowledgment 
of  my  obligations.  What  was  my  astonishment  to  see 
this  quiet  man  with  whom  I  had  a  moment  before  been 
calmly  conversing,  at  once  turn  pale,  tremble,  stand  fixed 
as  a  statue,  and  then  flinging  himself  upon  my  shoulder, 
burst  into  a  flood  of  tears,  exclaiming,   'Friend,   thou 


348  Joseph  Lancaster 

knewest  it  not,  but  God  hath  sent  thee,  to  keep  me  from 
a  gaol,  and  to  preserve  my  system  from  ruin.'  " 

Fits  of  deep  depression  alternated  with  other  fits  of 
wild  hope  and  religious  fervour.  When  pressed  for 
money,  he  says  he  cannot  believe  that  if  the  Almighty 
has  designed  the  education  of  the  poor  of  London,  a  few 
pitiless  creditors  can  prevent  it,  "  only  let  the  eyes  of  his 
friends  be  opened  and  they  will  soon  see  the  mountain 
full  of  horses  of  fire  and  of  chariots  of  fire  round  about 
Elijah."  He  is  arrested  for  debt,  and  remains  three 
days  in  the  spungirig  house  and  no  one  has  been  to  see 
him,  but  he  is  as  happy  as  Joseph  was  in  the  King's 
prison  in  Egypt.  After  a  while,  he  asked  for  a  sheriff's 
officer  to  take  him  to  the  King's  Bench  prison,  but  ob- 
tained leave  to  call  at  home  on  the  way  thither.  When 
he  got  home  his  wife  and  child,  and  all  his  young 
monitors  were  assembled,  overwhelmed  with  grief  be- 
cause he  was  going  to  prison.  After  being  with  them  a 
little  he  opened  the  parlour  door  and  said  to  the  man, 
"Friend,  when  I  am  at  home,  I  read  the  Scriptures  with 
my  family,  hast  thou  any  objection  to  come  in  !  "  He  re- 
plied, "No  Sir,"  and  went  in.  After  he  had  read  a  chapter 
or  two  he  went  to  prayer.  The  man  soon  became  deeply 
affected  and  joined  in  the  common  grief.  After  prayer, 
Joseph  rose  and  said,  "  Now,  friend,  I  am  ready  for  thee." 
Greatly  touched,  the  officer  on  this  occasion  actually 
offered  to  become  bail  for  his  prisoner.  This  was  not 
the  only  episode  of  the  like  kind.  In  turn  poor  Joseph 
experienced  the  vicissitudes  of 

Toil,  envy,  want,  the  patron  and  the -gaol. 

Efforts  of         In  180S  a  few  noblemen  and  gentlemen  came  to  his 

toAefo       a'd'  Paid  his  debts,  became  his  trustees  and  organized 

him.  the  Society  which  was  at  first  known  as  the  Royal  Lancas- 

terian  Society  and  afterwards  as  the  British  and  Foreign 


His  later  career  349 


School  Society.  But  their  generous  and  business-like 
interposition  did  not  put  an  end  to  his  troubles.  They 
found  him  impatient  of  control,  and  incurably  wayward 
and  extravagant.  They  desired  to  retain  his  services 
and  to  treat  him  with  liberality  and  respect,  but  his  wild 
impulses  and  heedless  projects  needed  constant  check, 
and  it  was  very  difficult  to  make  any  check  effective. 
He  resented  every  arrangement  which  sought  to  restrain 
his  expenses,  or  to  enable  him  to  work  with  other  people. 
He  declared  that  they  degraded  him  to  the  position  of  a 
hireling.  "I  thought,"  he  afterwards  said  bitterly,  in 
referring  to  his  friends  who  had  set  up  the  British  and 
Foreign  School  Society,  "that  my  sunshine  friends  had 
been  birds  of  paradise,  but  the  first  winter  season  proved 
them  to  be  birds  of  passage."  In  a  fit  of  anger  he  shook 
the  dust  from  off  his  feet  and  betook  himself  to  Tooting, 
where  he  set  up  a  private  school.  This  undertaking 
failed  miserably,  he  became  a  bankrupt  and  emigrated 
in  1818  to  America. 

There  he  met  with  a  kindly  welcome.  His  courses  His  later 
of  lectures  in  the  United  States  were  at  first  well career' 
attended,  and  a  new  career  of  honour  and  usefulness 
seemed  to  be  opening  before  him.  He  wrote  home 
letters  full  of  bitter  reviling  for  the  false  friends  who 
he  said  had  betrayed  him  at  home,  and  declared  that 
for  the  first  time  the  Divine  work  which  had  been 
entrusted  to  him  would  be  truly  appreciated.  But 
the  bubble  of  his  fame  soon  collapsed.  He  alienated 
his  new  friends,  and  fell  once  more  into  debt  and 
poverty.  Sickness  overtook  him  and  he  went  for  a  time 
to  the  warmer  climate  of  the  West  Indies,  and  after  a 
few  months  returned  to  New  York,  where  the  Corporation 
in  pity  for  his  lamentable  condition  made  him  a  grant 
of  500  dollars.     He  was  then  induced  to  go  to  Canada, 


350  Joseph  Lancaster 

and  at  Montreal  recommenced  his  lectures  and  basked 
for  a  while  in  new  gleams  of  public  favour.  But  here 
again  he  is  soon  found  opening  a  private  school  for  the 
means  of  subsistence  and  not  succeeding  very  well.  It 
is  very  pathetic  to  read  his  letters  and  diary,  written 
towards  the  close  of  his  life.  Though  he  had  been 
disowned  by  the  Friends  on  account  of  his  pecuniary 
and  other  irregularities,  and  though  his  wife  and  children 
went  to  church,  he  could  not  help  yearning  after  the 
spiritual  privileges  of  a  happier  time;  and  in  his  bare 
school-room  he  would  on  Sundays  hold  a  "  silent  meet- 
ing," sitting  all  alone  and  meditating:  and  listening,  if 
perchance  he  might  once  more  hear  the  Divine  voice. 
"Here,"  he  writes,  "I  sometimes  found  the  chief  things 
of  the  ancient  mountains  and  the  precious  influences  of 
the  everlasting  hills  resting  indeed  on  the  head  of  Joseph, 
and  on  the  crown  of  the  head  of  him  who  was  separated 
from  his  brethren,  by  distance,  by  faults,  by  circum- 
stances, and  by  the  just  but  iron  hand  of  discipline.  I 
longed  again  and  again  to  come  under  the  purifying  and 
baptizing  power  of  the  truth  which  had  been  the  dew  of 
my  youth,  and  the  hope  of  all  my  life  in  its  best 
moments  whether  of  sorrow  or  joy."  A  little  annuity 
was  raised  for  him  by  friends  in  England  and  for  a  time 
he  subsisted  on  it;  but  he  again  became  restless,  anxious 
to  return  to  England,  and  indulging  wildly  in  the  pros- 
pect of  repeating  his  former  triumphs.  He  describes 
himself  once  more  as  ready  to  confound  all  his  adver- 
saries, to  teach  ten  thousand  children  not  knowing  their 
letters  all  to  read  fluently  in  three  weeks  to  three  months. 
"The  fire  that  kindled  Elijah's  sacrifice  had  kindled  his, 
and  all  true  Israelites  would  in  time  see  it." 

These  visions,  however,  were  not  to  be  realized.     He 
was  run  over  by  a  waggon  in  the  streets  of  New  York,  in 


Bell  and  Lancaster  compared  35  i 


October,  1838,  and  died  after  a  few  hours  from  the  effects 

of  the  accident,  in  the  fifty-first  year  of  his  age. 

The  characters  of  the  two  men  were  as  sharply  con-  Characters 

trasted  as  their  worldly  careers.     Dr    Bell   was   never''/ 

J  Lancaster 

overtaken  by  religious  enthusiasm.  His  whole  life  was  compared. 
disfigured  by  vanity  and  self-seeking.  He  was  to  the 
inner  core  of  his  nature  what  Mr  M.  Arnold  calls  a  Philis- 
tine. He  went  once  toYverdun  to  see  Pestalozzi,  but  he 
caught  no  inspiration,  saw  nothing  in  his  methods,  and 
spoke  with  contempt  of  a  man  who  wanted  several  teachers 
for  a  hundred  boys,  while  he  could  have  taught  twice  that 
number  alone.  Mr  Meiklejohn,  whom  many  of  you 
know  so  well  as  the  accomplished  and  able  occupant  of 
one  of  the  Chairs  of  Education  founded  by  Bell's  Trustees 
and  endowed  with  Bell's  money,  might  perhaps  be  sup- 
posed under  some  official  obligation  to  make  the  best  of 
the  pious  founder.  Yet  he  shows  a  merciless  frankness 
in  estimating  Bell's  character, — a  frankness  which  it 
must  be  owned  is  not  usual  among  endowed  professors 
when  building  the  tombs  of  the  prophets.  It  is  thus 
that  he  paints  his  hero's  portrait.  "He  was  not  an 
interesting  man.  He  was  not  a  great  man;  he  had  very 
little  insight  into  human  nature,  though  here  and  there 
are  to  be  found  glimpses  of  truth;  he  was  singularly 
narrow-minded,  and  he  was  in  several  respects  a  terrible 
bore.  There  is  in  his  own  mind  hardly  a  trace  of  edu- 
cation, or  the  smallest  sign  of  literary  culture.  He  had 
read  Cicero  and  Quintilian,  Milton  and  Locke,  but  he 
had  read  them  only  for  the  purpose  of  digging  out  of 
them  mottoes  for  the  chapters  of  his  works  or  passages 
in  support  of  his  own  conclusions.  There  is  no  more 
trace  of  literature  in  all  his  voluminous  writings  than 
there  is  in  the  minutes  of  a  corporation,  or  the  report  of 
a  banking  company.     He  remained  to  the  end  of  his 


352  "Joseph  Lancaster 


days  of  the  opinion  which  he  expressed  when  he  was 
acting  as  tutor  to  his  two  American  pupils,  'I  thought 
that  a  good  handwriting  was  better  than  all  the  Greek  or 
Latin  in  the  universe  ' ;  and  even  after  he  was  a  richly 
beneficed  clergyman,  he  looked  upon  Grammar  Schools 
and  Universities  chiefly  as  places  where  people  'contract 
prejudices.'  His  whole  mind  and  soul  were  absorbed  in 
the  one  idea  of  extending  to  the  whole  world  the  blessings 
and  peculiarities  of  the  Madras  system."  x 

The  difference  in  the  views  of  religious  education 
entertained  by  the  two  men  was  profound;  and  it  still 
survives  in  a  strongly  marked  form  in  two  sections  of  the 
friends  of  religious  education.  Bell  and  his  followers 
believed  it  to  be  the  first  business  of  a  religious  teacher 
to  enforce  the  creed  and  to  attach  the  scholar  to  the 
communion  of  the  Church  of  England.  Lancaster 
constantly  sought  to  vindicate  the  need  and  the  possi- 
bility of  a  comprehensive  and  yet  Christian  system  of 
national  education.  Except  through  his  efforts,  and 
those  of  his  friends,  all  the  popular  education  of  this 
country  had  been  given  in  connexion  with  some  particu- 
lar section  of  the  Christian  Church;  and  the  catechisms 
and  formularies  which  are  distinctive  of  sects  and 
Churches,  were  regarded  by  the  members  of  those  sects 
as  the  basis  of  all  possible  religious  instruction.  But 
Lancaster  thought  that  there  were  deeper  truths  than 
those  which  Christians  regard  as  disputable,  and  that 
it  was  precisely  to  those  truths  that  the  attention  of 
children  ought  first  to  be  directed.  Though  a  Quaker,  he 
never  sought  to  appoint  persons  of  his  own  communion 
to  help  him  as  teachers,  and  he  refused  to  use  his  school 
as  a  propaganda  for  the  peculiar  tenets  of  the  Friends. 
He  believed  that  national  education  could  be  Christian 

1  Andrew  Bell,  by  Prufessor  Meiklejohn. 


Their  work  estimated  353 

without  being  sectarian.  He  sought  in  the  British  schools 
to  teach  children  to  read  the  Bible,  to  understand  it,  to 
love  it,  and  to  take  it  as  the  guide  of  their  lives;  and  at 
the  same  time  he  carefully  abstained  from  dogmatizing 
on  those  questions  of  doctrine  and  discipline  which 
divide  Churchman  from  Dissenter,  or  Presbyterian  from 
Baptist.  And  this  scheme  was  not  a  political  device  for 
conciliating  the  support  of  all  parties,  or  for  pleasing  the 
wavering  and  indifferent.  It  grew  out  of  the  experience 
of  a  devout  and  earnest  man,  who,  loving  his  own  form 
of  religious  worship  with  passionate  zeal,  loved  Chris- 
tianity and  the  interests  of  children  more  earnestly  still. 
In  future  days  when  the  principle  of  comprehensive  and 
unsectarian  instruction  becomes  yet  more  generally  ad- 
mitted than  at  this  moment,  it  ought  not  to  be  forgotten 
that  Lancaster  was  the  first  to  enunciate  it,  and  that  he 
endured  more  odium  for  it  than  any  of  his  contempo- 
raries or  successors. 

Nevertheless  I  am  afraid  we  must  admit  that  neither  Their 
Bell  nor  Lancaster  is  entitled  to  a  very  high  place  among  w^ma(ej 
the  great  teachers  of  the  world.  Both  were  vain  and 
ignorant;  both  saw  one  particular  aspect  of  educational 
work  in  false  perspective,  and  were  incapable  of  taking  a 
large  or  generous  view  of  the  business  of  teaching  and 
training  as  a  whole.  Neither  contributed  anything  of 
value  to  the  literature  of  education.  I  do  not  really 
know  which  to  a  modern  reader  are  more  barren  of 
interest,  the  pompous  and  pretentious  tracts  of  Bell, 
or  the  incoherent,  confused  writings  of  Lancaster,  dis- 
figured as  they  all  were  by  the  vehemence  with  which  the 
writers  put  forth  their  personal  claims.  Each  of  the  two 
great  societies  with  which  their  names  were  identified  has 
since  done  much  valuable  work;  and  during  the  period 
from  1846  to  1870  it  was  mainly  through  the  agency  of 
2  A 


354  Joscpli  Lancaster 

these  societies  that  the  Government  distributed  the 
Parliamentary  grant.  Each  is  at  this  moment  playing  an 
honourable,  though  of  course  a  less  relatively  important 
part  in  the  work  of  popular  education.  Nearly  all  the 
voluntary  effort  was  directed  before  the  Act  of  1870 
either  to  'National '  or  to  'British  '  schools;  the  Roman 
Catholic  Poor  School  Committee,  and  the  Wesleyan 
Education  Committee,  having  been  formed  later  for 
the  maintenance  of  primary  schools  adapted  for  the 
child/en  of  their  several  communions,  though  other- 
wise conducted  on  the  same  educational  lines.  But 
each  of  the  two  great  societies  has  long  ago  abandoned 
whatever  was  distinctive  in  the  views  of  the  man  who 
gave  it  a  name;  and  to  say  the  truth,  both  societies, 
though  for  very  different  reasons,  have  become  half 
ashamed  of  their  founders.  Bell  was  the  more  successful 
man  and  was  more  praised  both  in  life  and  after  death. 
Lancaster's  life  was  a  failure  and  his  death  was  ignoble. 
But  I  think  he  had  the  finer  nature  of  the  two,  and 
more  of  the  'enthusiasm  of  humanity.'  He  had  drunk 
more  deeply  of  the  spirit  of  Him  who  said,  "Take  heed 
that  ye  despise  not  one  of  these  little  ones."  In  the 
midst  of  all  the  distractions  of  his  confused  and  ill- 
managed  life,  I  think  he  honestly  tried  to  listen  to  the 
teaching  of  conscience  and  the  sound  of  the  Divine  voice, 
and  with  more  or  less  of  halting  and  waywardness  to 
follow  its  guidance. 

"  But  in  a  great  house,  there  are  not  only  vessels  of 
gold  and  of  silver,  but  also  of  wood  and  of  earth,"  some 
being  meant  for  greater  and  some  for  lesser  honour. 
And  it  is  a  very  happy  thing  for  some  of  us  to  reflect 
that  in  this  world  to  which  we  have  been  sent,  our  great 
Taskmaster  is  willing  to  find  a  use  for  very  humble 
services  and  for  very  imperfect  instruments.     The  work 


Res  ii  Its  355 

of  these  men  was  not  work  of  the  highest  quality.  It 
was  sorely  marred  and  tarnished  in  the  handling;  but  it 
was  in  its  way  honest  and  good  pioneer  work;  its  many 
failures  helped  to  block  up  some  of  the  roads  to  future 
failure;  and  it  served  to  make  the  next  steps  to  improve- 
ment easier,  safer,  and  more  clearly  visible  than  they 
would  otherwise  have  been :  —  What  more  can  any  of  us 
hope  to  do  than  thus  to  be  a  link  between  the  days,  to 
achieve,  not  that  which  is  supremely  the  best,  but  the 
best  within  our  own  power  and  knowledge,  in  view  of  the 
circumstances,  needs,  and  opportunities  of  our  own  time, 
and  then  to  leave  posterity  to  take  as  much  or  as  little 
of  it  as  may  prove  to  be  of  use?  — 

"  Our  little  systems  have  their  day, 

They  have  their  day,  and  cease  to  be  ; 
They  are  but  broken  lights  of  Thee, 
And  Thou,  O  God,  art  more  than  they." 

More  than  they !  Yes,  in  the  larger  and  nobler 
systems  of  the  future,  the  results  of  the  experiments  of 
Bell  and  Lancaster  will  be  absorbed  or  superseded.  But 
something  will  survive  —  something  always  does  survive, 
and  ought  to  survive  —  from  strenuous  and  honourable 
endeavour  to  achieve  a  right  purpose.  It  is  only  in  the 
tender  twilight  of  history,  that  the  outlines  of  obsolete 
systems  are  softened,  and  that  controversies  can  be 
viewed  in  their  true  proportions,  so  that  we  become  able 
to  see  how  much  was  ephemeral  and  how  much  in  them 
deserved  to  be  permanent.  We  can  now  ask  ourselves 
quite  calmly:  —  What  was  the  monitorial  system,  or  as  it 
was  called  the  mutual  system,  which  for  a  time  seemed 
to  the  educational  enthusiasts  of  the  first  half  of  this 
century  as  if  it  was  the  greatest  discovery  of  the  age? 
To  say  the  truth  it  was  not  a  method  of  teaching.  It 
was  nothing  but  a  method  of  drill,  a  contrivance  for 


356  yosepli  Lancaster 

utilizing  a  certain  rough  and  imperfect  kind  of  agency.1 
Yet  it  did  not  shew  the  agents  how  to  teach;  it  revealed 
no  principles  as  to  the  difference  between  good  teaching 
and  bad,  or  as  to  the  way  in  which  knowledge  can  best 
find  entrance  into  the  mind.  But,  at  a  time  of  great 
public  apathy,  it  awakened  the  national  conscience  in 
regard  to  the  need  of  general  education  for  the  poor; 
and  it  greatly  helped  this  awakening  by  shewing  how 
certain  simple  results  could  be  achieved  at  a  very  small 
cost.  It  unquestionably  taught  reading,  writing,  and 
arithmetic  and  the  virtue  and  the  beauty  of  order.    Each 

1  Here  for  example  is  the  programme  of  one  of  his  lectures  :  — 
Royal  Lancasterian  System  of  Education. 

Joseph  Lancaster  the  Inventor  of  the  above  System  intends 
to  deliver  a  Lecture  on  its  Nature  and  advantages,  at  the  Freemason'' s 
Tavern,  Great  Queen  Street  Lincolns  Inn  Fields,  on  the  Evening 
of  the  Day  called  Monday,  the  ist  of  Seventh  Month.  [July]  1811. 

The  peculiar  advantages  of  this  System  are  that  One  Master 
[often  a  lad  from  fourteen  to  eighteen  years  of  age]  can  be  rendered 
competent  to  the  government  of  a  school  containing  from  200  to 
1000  Scholars.  The  Expense  of  Education  for  each  Individual  will 
also  diminish  in  proportion  as  the  Number  under  the  care  of  the 
same  master  increases. 

The  System  of  Order  and  Tuition  serves  in  lieu  of  experience 
and  discretion  in  the  Teacher,  whose  qualification  consists  only  of  a 
small  degree  of  Elementary  Knowledge.  Five  Hundred  children 
may  spell  at  the  same  time.  A  whole  school  however  large  may 
read  and  spell  from  the  same  Book.  The  Master  will  be  wholly 
relieved  from  the  duty  of  Tuition  and  have  for  his  charge  that  of 
frequent  inspection  of  the  Progress  made  by  the  Pupils.  In  no  case 
will  this  be  more  conspicuous  than  in  teaching  Arithmetic.  The 
preceding  Points  will  be  clearly  explained  during  the  Lecture,  and 
parts  of  the  System  will  be  practically  exemplified  by  a  number  of 
Boys  who  will  attend  for  that  purpose.  A  number  of  Drawings 
will  be  exhibited  to  illustrate  the  peculiar  Principles  of  Rewards 
and  Punishments,  which  form  Addenda  to  the  System  of  Tuition. 


The  Monitorial  System  357 


of  the  two  men,  in  his  own  way,  succeeded  in  impressing 
a  decidedly  religious  character  on  the  voluntary  Schools 
of  England.  And  they  had  a  clear  grasp  of  one  cardinal 
principle,  too  often  overlooked.  They  regarded  a  school 
not  merely  as  a  place  to  which  scholars  should  resort  to 
get  knowledge  for  themselves,  but  as  an  organized  com- 
munity for  mutual  aid  and  encouragement  in  the  work  of 
instruction.  The  scholar  was  made  to  feel  that  his  first 
business  was  to  learn,  and  his  next  to  help  others  to 
learn. 

And  this  principle  of  mutual  help,  this  solidarity,  this 
sense  of  corporate  life,  and  of  the  obligation  on  one 
who  knows  to  make  his  knowledge  useful  to  others,  is 
of  abiding  importance.  This  principle  at  least  we  may 
hope  will  survive  in  all  our  schools,  even  when  the 
"monitorial  or  mutual  system  of  instruction "  once  so 
extravagantly  lauded,  is  wholly  forgotten. 


LECTURE   XII 

PESTALOZZI J 

The  anniversary.  Characteristics  of  Pestalozzi's  teaching.  Sense 
Training.  How  he  differed  from  Rousseau.  His  religious 
purpose.  His  rebellion  against  verbalism.  No  finality  in  his 
system. 

The  anni-  The  Son  of  Sirach  introduces  a  chapter  of  Ecclesias- 
versary.  ^\cus  —  a  book  which  is  less  read  than  it  deserves  to  be  — 
with  the  words:  "Let  us  now  praise  famous  men  and 
our  fathers  that  begat  us  *  *  leaders  of  the  people  by 
their  counsels,  and  by  knowledge  and  learning  meet  for 
the  people,  wise  and  eloquent  in  their  instructions  *  * 
the  Lord  hath  wrought  great  glory  by  them."  And  the 
apocryphal  writer  then  proceeds  to  enumerate  the  great 
Hebrew  teachers,  heroes,  and  poets,  and  to  celebrate 
their  achievements.  So  this  commemorative  instinct, 
which  leads  men  to  recall  the  deeds  and  writings  of 
departed  worthies,  and  which  has  drawn  you  together  to- 
night to  honour  the  one  hundred  and  fiftieth  anniversary 
of  Pestalozzi's  birth,  is  a  very  old  instinct  —  and  it  is  a 

1  Presidential  Address  at  the  Memorial  Conference  in  the  College 
of  Preceptors  on  the  hundred  and  fiftieth  anniversary  of  the  birth  of 
Pestalozzi,  October  7,  1896. 

35* 


Pestalozzi's  anniversary  359 

very  true  one.  We  have  no  better  means  of  keeping 
alive  what  is  memorable  in  the  history  and  character  of  a 
man,  and  what  is  of  permanent  value  in  his  teaching,  than 
by  availing  ourselves  of  these  periodical  occasions  for 
retrospect,  and  by  recalling  from  time  to  time  what  we 
owe  to  those  who  have  gone  before  us.  A  jubilee,  a 
birthday,  a  centenary,  furnishes  suitable  opportunity  for 
doing  this,  and  it  is  very  necessary  in  the  case  of  those 
who,  like  Pestalozzi,  are  identified  with  principles  pe- 
culiarly liable  to  be  overlaid  with  routine  and  petrified 
into  formulas,  and  therefore  needing  constantly  to  be 
reviewed,  subjected  to  new  tests,  and  enforced  by  help 
of  new  illustrations.  It  is  in  every  way  fitting  that  the 
task  of  recalling  to  this  generation  what  we  all  owe  to 
Pestalozzi  should  be  undertaken  by  the  authorities  of  this 
College,  an  institution  which  has  for  many  years  been 
foremost  in  its  recognition  of  the  fact  that  education  is  a 
science,  and  which  has,  by  means  of  lectures  and  con- 
ferences, done  so  much  to  elucidate  the  principles,  the 
history,  and  the  art  of  teaching.  And  I  think  those 
authorities  have  been  well  advised  in  determining  that 
the  fittest  way  to  celebrate  this  occasion  is  to  invite  a 
few  persons  specially  conversant  with  improved  methods 
of  teaching  to  address  you,  respectively,  on  some  special 
aspects  of  Pestalozzi's  work  and  its  relation  to  the  needs 
of  our  modern  life.  This  is  a  sure  way  of  avoiding 
discursiveness  and  of  giving  definiteness  to  our  meeting. 
Your  attention  will  be  directed  to-day  to  the  spirit  and 
influence  of  Pestalozzi's  teaching  generally,  to  some 
features  of  his  personal  biography,  especially  to  his 
failures  and  disappointments  and  to  his  manful  and 
courageous  determination  to  overcome  difficulties,  to  his 
influence  in  Germany,  and  to  the  development  of  his 
principles  in  our  own  country.     You  could  not  possibly 


360  Pestalozzi 

have  the  whole  subject  brought  before  you  under  more 
favourable  auspices  or  on  a  more  practical  .and  business- 
like plan.  The  Council  of  the  College  has  done  well  to 
select  for  the  purpose  of  our  discussion  some  of  the  most 
distinguished  teachers  and  thinkers  of  the  younger  gen- 
eration, each  of  whom  in  his  or  her  own  way  has  done 
valuable  work  in  elevating  the  public  estimate  of  a  true 
and  rational  education;  and  each  of  whom  is  specially 
qualified  to  distinguish  between  what  is  ephemeral  or 
obsolete  and  what  is  of  enduring  value  in  Pestalozzi 's 
work. 
Charac-  For   myself,   as   one  of   the  older  school  who  has 

PeslalozzVs  nevertheless  not  lost  his  faith  in  the  future,  or  his  deep 
teaching,  sympathy  with  the  best  and  most  fruitful  of  modern 
educational  ideals,  my  task  is  a  much  humbler  and 
simpler  one.  It  is  to  introduce  to  you  in  turn  the 
readers  of  the  several  papers,  and  to  bespeak  for  them 
that  intelligent  attention  which  the  audiences  in  this  hall 
are  accustomed  to  give,  and  to  which  both  the  subject  of 
discussion  and  the  reputation  of  the  speakers  are  emi- 
nently entitled.  I  will  not  stand  except  for  a  very  brief 
period  between  you  and  them.  But  I  may  be  permitted 
to  refer,  in  the  fewest  words,  to  the  two  or  three  features 
of  Pestalozzi's  teaching  which  have  always  appeared  to 
me  among  the  most  valuable,  and  which,  in  my  opinion, 
ought  never  to  be  permitted  to  become  outworn  or 
obsolete. 
Sense  The  first  of  these  is  his  insistence  on  the  necessity  of 

training  for  the  senses  and  for  the  physical  powers  as 
well  as  for  the  memory  and  the  understanding.  The  old 
doctrine,  Nihil  in  intellectu  quod  non  prius  in  scnsit,  was 
with  him  more  than  an  academic  proposition.  It  was 
the  key  to  his  practical  methods.  It  dominated  much 
of  what  is  called  his  system.      Hence   all  the  simple 


Rousseau  361 

devices  by  which  he  led  children  to  see  clearly,  to 
exercise  the  faculty  of  observation,  to  draw,  to  touch,  to 
handle,  to  discover,  to  imitate,  to  invent.  He  did  not 
regard  the  use  of  printed  words  and  letters  as  the  true 
beginning  of  all  knowledge,  but  he  relied  rather  on 
intuition,  the  development  of  faculty,  the  rousing  of 
curiosity,  as  the  first  objects  to  be  achieved  in  the 
education  of  a  child.  Now  here  is  a  principle  of  per- 
manent importance,  one  of  which  we  do  not  yet  see  all 
the  practical  applications,  but  one  which  will  guide  us  in 
coming  to  right  conclusions,  in  respect,  for  example,  to 
the  place  which  manual  training  ought  to  hold  as  part  of 
a  scheme  of  liberal  education,  as  well  as  to  other  yet 
unsolved  problems  of  our  own  time.  Raumer,  one  of 
his  affectionate  disciples,  said  of  him:  "He  compelled 
the  scholastic  world  to  revise  the  whole  of  their  task,  to 
reflect  on  the  nature  and  destiny  of  man,  and  on  the 
proper  ways  of  leading  him  from  his  youth  towards  that 
destiny."  This  was  in  fact  the  main. purpose  of  Pesta- 
lozzi's  life.  He  sought  to  find  foi  himself  and  to  help 
others  to  find,  a  basis  for  his  plans  of  education,  in  a 
fresher  study  of  nature  and  experience. 

Oliver  Wendell  Holmes  once  said  of  Emerson *  "  that  How  he 
he  was  an    iconoclast  without   the    hammer;    that   the  dlJ/ereci 

jrom 

idols  he  sought  to  dethrone  he  took  down  from  their  Rousseau. 

pedestals  so  gently  and  reverently  that  he  seemed  more 

like  one  performing  an  act  of  worship."     In  some  sense 

this  is  true  of  Pestalozzi.    He  too  was  an  iconoclast,  but 

he  went  about  his  work  in  a  very  different  spirit  from 

that  which  animated  Rousseau,  to  whom  he  was  in  other 

respects  so  nearly  akin.     Compare  Rousseau's  "  Emile  " 

with  Pestalozzi's  "  Leonard  and  Gertrude,"  and  you  will 

be  conscious  of  a  difference  of  tone  as  well  as  of  sub- 

1  Cabot's  Life  of  Emerson, 


362  Pestalozzi 

stance.  There  is  in  Pestalozzi  little  or  no  denunciation, 
none  of  the  fierce  revolt  against  established  notions  and 
usages  which  characterized  Rousseau,  only  an  earnest 
appeal  to  parents  and  teachers  —  all  the  more  effectual 
because  so  restrained  and  modest  —  to  follow  books  and 
traditions  less  and  to  study  nature  and  childhood  more. 
His  You   cannot    in   any    survey  of    Pestalozzi 's   career 

re  igiom     over]00k  the  deep  religiousness  of  his  nature.     To  him 

purpose.  l  ° 

the  teacher's  office  was  a  sacred,  indeed  a  priestly, 
function.  The  moral  purpose  of  a  school  was  its  highest 
purpose.  No  teacher  or  writer  on  education  has  ever 
more  strongly  emphasized  the  truth  that  character  is 
more  important  even  than  knowledge,  that  knowledge  is 
only  a  means  to  the  higher  end,  not  itself  an  end;  and 
that  the  first  business  of  a  school,  as  of  a  home,  is  not  so 
much  to  give  formal  religious  lessons  as  to  provide  an 
atmosphere  of  love  and  purity  and  goodness,  in  which 
all  that  is  gracious  and  beautiful  in  a.  child's  character 
may  have  room  to  grow.  "Man,"  he  said,  in  one  of  his 
latest  writings,  the  Swan  song,  "develops  the  funda- 
mental elements  of  his  moral  life  —  his  love  and  faith  — - 
by  the  exercise  of  love  and  faith,  just  as  those  of  his 
intellectual  life  —  his  thought  and  reflection  —  by  the 
exercise  of  thought,  and  those  of  his  practical  or  indus- 
trial life  —  the  power  of  his  organs  and  muscles  —  by 
the  exercise  of  this  power."  Everywhere  you  find  him 
insisting  on  the  need  of  spontaneous  activity,  and  on  the 
fact  that  the  learner  is  not  passively  to  receive  and  to 
reproduce  the  opinions  or  the  emotions  of  other  people, 
but  to  be  a  free  and  living  agent.  A  school  could  on 
Pestalozzi's  principles  do  nothing  better  than  to  place 
the  learner  in  conditions  favourable  to  the  full  expansion 
of  whatever  is  best  in  his  intellectual  powers  and  his 
moral  and  spiritual  aspirations. 


Verbalism  363 

Perhaps    the    most   notable    feature    of    Pestalozzi's ///.? 

system    was   his   earnest  and   constant   protest   against       ." 
'  ,  10  against 

verbalism  and  teaching  by  rote.  He  was  very  sensible  verbalism. 
of  the  importance  of  language  culture  and  of  the  right 
use  of  words,  but  he  desired  in  all  cases  to  make  the 
word  or  the  technical  term  come  after  some  knowledge 
of  the  subject  or  the  distinction  which  the  word  repre- 
sented, and  not  before  it  or  independently  of  it.  In  par- 
ticular, he  warred  against  the  use  of  formularies,  manuals, 
and  text-books  which  professed  to  present  the  whole  of 
what  was  to  be  known  on  a  given  subject,  and  so  to 
supersede  the  necessity  of  actual  intellectual  contact 
between  a  teacher  and  pupil.  He  distrusted  all  such 
methods.  The  habit  of  putting  printed  questions  and 
answers  in  a  book  to  be  committed  to  memory  seemed 
to  him  deadening  and  mischievous,  and,  indeed,  destruc- 
tive to  any  real  and  vital  communication  between  teacher 
and  taught.  Happily,  his  opinions  on  this  topic  have 
been  generally  accepted  by  all  good  modern  teachers. 
Except  in  regard  to  one  subject,  books  of  questions  and 
answers,  'scientific  dialogues,'  and  the  like,  have  been 
well-nigh  abandoned,  and  are  only  now  used  as  the  last 
resort  of  examiners  who  do  not  know  how  to  examine, 
and  of  teachers  who  cannot  teach.  You  know  well  what 
that  one  subject  is.  There  is  still  a  fond  belief,  on  the 
part  of  many  good  people,  that  the  method  of  learning 
by  heart  answers  to  questions  which  the  teacher  reads 
out  of  a  book  —  a  method  which  has  been  discredited  in 
all  other  departments  of  instruction  —  is  the  best  method 
of  teaching  religion.  Some  day,  perhaps,  we  may  eman- 
cipate ourselves  from  this  curious  superstition,  and  learn 
how  to  apply  the  principles  of  Pestalozzi  not  only  to 
arithmetic,  and  grammar,  and  history,  but  to  the  highest 
and  most  sacred  of  all  the  subjects  we  have  to  teach. 


364  Pestalozzi 

No  finality  Meanwhile,  one  thing  remains  to  be  said.  There  is 
ln  ,ns  no  finality  in  the  system  of  Pestalozzi.  He  was  a  pioneer 
only.  He  saw,  with  intense  clearness,  some  fundamental 
truths,  but  he  could  not  foresee  all  the  practical  applica- 
tions of  those  truths.  His  simple  life's  experience  among 
peasants  in  Germany  and  Switzerland  did  not  qualify 
him  to  understand  thoroughly  the  needs  of  great  and 
crowded  towns,  or  to  take  a  full  view  of  the  larger  educa- 
tional horizon  which  we  have  to  deal  with  now.  Had  he 
known  London,  or  Paris,  or  Manchester,  their  new  intel- 
lectual and  industrial  conditions  would  certainly  have 
interested  him  deeply  and  suggested  to  him  new  and 
fruitful  devices  for  meeting  them.  It  is  for  us,  who  have 
this  experience,  to  adapt  what  is  best  in  his  teaching  to 
the  changed  circumstances  and  needs  of  our  own  time. 
W'e  must  remember  that  it  is  just  as  possible  for  Pesta- 
lozzianism  as  for  any  other  system  to  lose  its  vitalizing 
power,  to  be  stiffened  into  formulas,  and  to  become 
wooden,  pedantic,  and  uninspiring.  I  have  had  occasion, 
during  my  official  life,  to  know  how  easy  it  is  to  use  all 
the  phraseology  of  Pestalozzi,  to  imitate  his  object 
lessons,  and  to  accept  his  technique  and  his  theories, 
and  yet  to  be  hopelessly  uninfluenced  by  the  spirit  of  the 
master,  and  to  fall  into  unintelligent  and  unsympathetic 
routine.  The  true  way  to  guard  against  this  clanger  is  to 
perpetuate  his  spirit  as  well  as  his  methods,  to  re-state, 
from  time  to  time,  the  principles  he  advocated,  to  view 
them  with  fresh  eyes  in  the  light  of  later  experience,  and 
to  seek  for  the  best  means  of  applying  and  illustrating 
them.  That  is  the  purpose  for  which  we  are  met  to-day, 
and  I  congratulate  you  on  the  fact  that  the  task  has  been 
confided  to  some  of  those  on  whom  I  have  now  to  call, 
and  who  are  specially  qualified  to  be  the  exponents  of 
his  principles  and  the  critics  of  his  work. 


LECTURE   XIII 

THE  SUNDAY  SCHOOL  OF  THE  FUTURE 

Voluntary  philanthropy  in  England.  Robert  Raikes.  The  changed 
position  of  the  Sunday  Schools.  The  problem  of  the  future. 
The  Lord's  Day  and  its  purpose.  The  working  man's  Sunday. 
Home  influence  more  potent  than  that  of  any  school.  Sunday 
in  our  homes.  The  teacher.  Conversation.  Reading  aloud. 
The  School  Library.  Religious  instruction.  A  teacher's  equip- 
ment. Need  of  preparation.  Questioning,  Verbal  Memory. 
Formularies.  Catechising  in  church.  Work  for  the  educated 
laity.  Children's  services.  Fovnatior  of  a  habit  of  attending 
public  worship.  General  conclusions.  The  Sunday  School 
not  only  a  place  for  religious  instruction,  but  a  centre  of  civili- 
zation and  social  improvement. 

In  the  history  of  English  education,  nothing  strikes  Voluntary 
us  more   than   the  large  share  taken   in  it  by  private  f,  l  <fn~- 
voluntary  agency  and  the  comparatively  small  part  played  England. 
in  it  by  the  Government  or  by  legislation.    In  this  respect 
our  own  country  differs  materially  from  most  Continental 
nations  and  especially  from  Germany;  —  certainly  from 
America  where  the  Puritan  fathers  of  the  Eastern  States 
made    it  their  first  business  to   provide    schools,   and 
to  set  apart  a  portion  of  the  public  land  and  thus  to 

1  Address  to  the  Women's  Diocesan  Conference  at  the  Church 
House,  Westminster. 

365 


366  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 

secure  means  for  maintaining  them.  Here  at  home, 
some  of  our  educational  resources  are  an  inheritance  from 
monasteries,  chantries,  and  other  religious  houses;  for  a 
few  we  are  indebted  to  the  benefactions  of  kings  and 
nobles,  to  the  pious  benevolence  of  rich  men  who  have 
founded  schools,  and  to  municipal  and  corporate  action 
on  the  part  of  those  who  as  parents  or  otherwise  felt  con- 
scious of  a  public  want,  and  sought  to  supply  it.  But 
the  end  of  the  iSth  century,  and  beginning  of  the  pres- 
ent, were  distinguished  by  the  efforts  of  a  few  men  who 
were  not  rich,  and  could  not  be  classed  as  'pious  founders' 
in  the  ordinary  sense,  but  who  gave  to  philanthropic  work 
something  better  than  money  —  personal  service  and 
enthusiasm.  The  spirit  which  led  John  Howard  and 
Elizabeth  Fry  to  visit  prisons,  and  to  bring  unofficial 
pressure  to  bear  on  prison  authorities  with  a  view  to  the 
alleviation  of  the  sufferings  of  prisoners,  the  spirit  which 
at  the  same  period  animated  Clarkson,  Wilberforce,  and 
the  poet  Cowper  to  denounce  the  African  Slave  trade, 
and  to  claim  in  the  uar>  Off  humanity  the  emancipation 
of  our  Wesi  Indian  slaves,  indicated  the  growth  of  an 
uneasy  feeling  in  the  public  conscience  in  regard  to 
great  social  wrongs. 

In  the  year  1781  Robert  Raikes,  a  printer,  and  the 
publisher  of  a  local  journal  in  Gloucester,  distressed  to 
see  the  large  number  of  untaught  and  squalid  children 
roaming  about  the  streets  of  that  city,  opened  a  refuge 
for  them  on  Sunday  afternoons,  and  engaged  two  or  three 
women  at  a  shilling  per  day  to  take  care  of  the  children 
and  teach  them  to  read  the  New  Testament.  With  the 
help  of  the  clergy,  children  were  induced  to  come  in  great 
numbers,  and  many  voluntary  teachers  were  soon  found. 
The  only  necessary  condition  of  admission  was  that  the 
children  should  come  with  clean  hands  and  faces.    Some 


Robert  Raikes  367 


of  the  parents  who  could  afford  it  paid  small  fees.     The 
instruction  was  of  the  humblest  kind  — •  reading,  spelling, 
writing,  and  a  little  simple  arithmetic.    There  were  then 
few  day  schools  of  any  kind  open  to  the  children  of  the 
poor,  except  the  Endowed  Charity  Schools,  which  often 
gave  clothing  as  well  as  gratuitous  elementary  instruction, 
and  admission  to  which  was  obtained  by  the  choice  and 
private  patronage  of  local  trustees.1     The  great  societies 
for   promoting   popular    instruction  —  the    British   and 
Foreign  School  Society,  and  the  National  Society  for  the 
Education  of  the  Poor  in  the  principles  of  the  Established 
Church  —  did  not  come  into  existence  till  ten  years  later. 
The  Society  for   Promoting   Christian  Knowledge   had 
been  founded  in  169S  but  had  not  established  schools  of 
its  own.      And  no  obligation  on  the  part  of   Parliament 
to  concern  itself  with  popular  education  began  to  be 
recognized  until   the  middle  of    the    present   century. 
Raikes'  success  at  Gloucester  was  remarkable.     Among 
his  more  influential  supporters  were  Jonas  Hanway,  John 
Howard,  Henry  Thornton,   Mrs  Trimmer,  and   Hannah 
More;  but  he  found  imitators  in  all  parts  of  the  country. 
These  were   chiefly  members  of  religious  bodies,    the 
schools  were   held    in   churches   and   chapels,   and    so 
it  came  to  pass  that  the  Bible  furnished  the  staple  of 
instruction  in  the  schools.     In  later  times,  as  the  means 
of  secular  instruction  have  been  increased  by  the  multi- 
plication of  day  schools,  the  Sunday  teaching  has  become 
practically  limited  to  religious  subjects.     But  it  ought 
not  to  be  forgotten  that  the  first  efforts  of  Raikes  and  his 
friends  were  wider  and  more  general.     They  did  not 
think  the  teaching  of  spelling  and  arithmetic  a  merely 
secular  business    inconsistent  with   the   claims   or   the 
sacredness  of  the  Lord's  day;  in  fact  they  regarded  the 


1  Ante,  p.  191. 


368  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 

Sunday  afternoon  school  not  as  a  supplement  to  a  system 
of  day  schools,  but  as  the  best  available  substitute  for  it. 
It  was  as  an  expedient  for  making  a  small  inroad  upon  the 
mass  of  ignorance  around  him  that  the  institution  founded 
by  Robert  Raikes  was  eminently  successful,  not  only 
because  it  brought  large  numbers  of  neglected  children 
within  the  reach  of  moral  and  civilizing  influences,  but 
also  because  it  awakened  among  many  benevolent  and 
religious  people  a  new  sense  of  their  responsibility 
towards  their  less  fortunate  brethren,  and  enlisted  their 
services  as  voluntary  teachers.  In  this  way  a  public 
opinion  was  gradually  formed  in  favour  of  popular  edu- 
cation, which  soon  afterwards  began  to  express  itself  in 
aiding  Bell  and  Lancaster,  and  in  efforts  to  establish 
voluntary  day  schools. 
The  It  is  evident  that  the  history  of  the  present  dying 

chang*      century  has  done  much  to  alter  the  relative  position  of 

position  J  r 

of  the  Sunday  Schools.  They  are  no  longer  needed  to  teach 
Sunday  rea.ding  and  writing.  The  law  of  1S70  which  provides 
adequate  day-school  accommodation  for  all  the  children 
requiring  elementary  instruction  —  that  is  to  say  for  one- 
sixth  of  the  population  —  and  the  subsequent  legislation 
which  compels  the  attendance  of  the  scholars,  have  gone 
far  to  render  the  Sunday  School  in  one  sense  superfluous. 
And  it  must  be  remembered  too,  that  with  very  few 
exceptions,  our  public  elementary  schools  are  all  im- 
pressed with  a  religious  character.  In  the  voluntary 
schools,  which  have  been  established  by  the  religious 
bodies,  there  is  systematic  instruction  in  faith  and  Chris- 
tian duty,  and  in  the  formularies  of  the  several  Churches. 
And  in  the  municipal  schools  — those  controlled  by  the 
School  Boards  —  the  Bible  is  nearly  always  read  and 
explained,  and  religious  instruction,  of  substantially  the 
kind  contemplated  in  many  of  the  best  Sunday  Schools, 


Purpose  of  the  Lord's  Day  369 

is  regularly  provided.  The  statutory  period  not  devoted 
to  secular  instruction,  is  consecrated  under  the  Time 
Table  Conscience  Clause  exclusively  to  religious  teach- 
ing in  Board  Schools  and  Voluntary  Schools  alike. 

What  then  is  the  area  of  usefulness  still  left  vacant,  The 

which  the  Sunday  School  of  the  future  should  be  ready  to  Pyol'le'n 

J  J        <>/  the 

occupy?     How  does  the  new  provision  which  has  under  future. 

the  Education  Act  become  so  abundant  and  so  effective 

modify  or  how  far  ought  it  to  modify  our  views  as  to 

the  true  scope  and  object  of  the  Sunday  School?     The 

answer  to  this  question  is  not  easy.     But  it  suggests  to 

us  other  enquiries,  and  some  considerations  which  bear 

in  a  very  real  though  at  first  sight  not  an  obvious  sense 

upon  its  solution. 

Why  is  it  that  among  all  Christian  communities  the  The 
recognition  of  the  first  day  of  the  week  as  a  time  of  rest  J?r   s    , 
is  so  much  valued?     Why  and  in  what  manner  do  we  fc 
feel  it  to  be  precious  to  ourselves?    Of  course  in  the  first  PurPose- 
place  it  is  an  opportunity  for  religious  edification  and 
worship.     But  that  is  not  the  whole.     Sunday  changes 
the  current  of  our  thoughts,  releases  us  for  a  few  hours 
from  the  ordinary  routine  of  the  week,  from  our  business 
or  profession,  and  breaks  the  continuity  of  that  eager, 
fretful,  and  anxious  struggle  which  occupies  our  minds  in 
politics,  in  industry,  and  in  society  during  the  rest  of  the 
week.     It  gives  us  leisure  for  reading,  for  thinking,  and 
for  happy  family  intercourse.     It  is  a  standing  symbol  to 
us  all  of  the  fact  that  the  'life  is  more  than  meat,'  that 
the  higher  life  has  its  own  claims,  that  rest,  refreshment, 
change  of  intellectual  employment,  are  among  the  neces- 
saries of  that  life. 

Now  it  is  in  the  light  of  our  own  experience  that  we  The  work- 
are  best  able  to  judge,  what  the  Sunday  ought  to  be  ^Sunday. 
children,  and  especially  to  the  families  of  those  who 

2B 


370  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 

belong  to  the  industrial  classes.  We  do  not  spend  the 
whole  of  our  own  Sunday  in  listening  to  religious  instruc- 
tion, nor  have  we  any  reason  to  suppose  that  others  are 
in  this  respect  different  from  ourselves. 

If  we  try  to  picture  the  ideal  Sunday  for  a  working 
man  and  his  household,  we  should  consider  how  he  is 
engaged  during  the  rest  of  the  week  in  labour  which 
begins  early  in  the  day,  and  that  he  often  returns  home 
after  his  children  have  gone  to  sleep.  Except  on  Sunday, 
he  scarcely  sees  his  family,  or  has  much  opportunity  of 
talking  to  them.  Then  when  the  day  comes,  the  happiest 
thing  we  could  desire  both  for  him  and  his  children  is 
that  he  should  take  the  elder  ones  with  him  to  a  place 
of  worship,  should  sit  down  with  them  in  the  afternoon, 
and  ask  them  what  they  are  doing  at  school,  should  hear 
them  repeat  to  him  the  hymns  or  lessons  they  have 
learned,  and  then  talk  to  them,  and  encourage  them  to 
talk  in  their  turn.  He  may  ask  the  eldest  to  read  some 
short  story  aloud  to  the  rest;  -or  if  the  day  be  fine  can 
take  them  with  him  for  a  walk  and  talk  by  the  way. 
Does  any  one  of  us  doubt,  that  in  the  strengthening  of 
family  affection,  in  its  influence  on  the  characters  of  the 
father  and  mother  by  drawing  out  some  of  their  best 
qualities,  and  in  the  enduring  memories  which  will  help 
to  form  the  children's  character  and  habits  for  life,  a 
Sunday  thus  spent  is  far  more  precious  than  if  passed 
among  strangers,  however  skilful  their  theological  in- 
struction may  be.  Let  us  acknowledge  once  for  all  that 
even  the  best  Sunday  School  is  but  a  substitute,  and  a 
very  poor  substitute,  for  the  ennobling  influence  of  an 
orderly  Christian  home.  The  sympathetic  interest  of 
the  father  and  mother  in  the  children's  lessons,  in  their 
thoughts,  and  in  their  progress,  though  it  be  not  the 
interest  of  skilled  or  professional  teachers,  is  far  more 


Home  influence  37  * 


influential  in  the  development  of  the  religious  character, 
than  all  the  formal  lessons  of  any  school  however  good. 
And  in  so  far  as  the  existence  of  Sunday  Schools  has 
given  to  many  parents,  who  are  quite  capable  of  exer- 
cising such  influence,  an  excuse  for  evading  their  own 
responsibilities  and  handing  them  over  to  others,  there 
is  no  doubt  in  my  mind  that  the  multiplication  of  such 
schools  has  done  harm  as  well  as  good.  It  seems  a 
hard  saying  in  this  audience;  but  in  just  the  proportion 
in  which  we  can  obtain  the  co-operation  of  parents  in 
the  religious  nurture  of  their  children,  we  may  be  well 
content  in  the  next  century  to  see  the  need  for  Sunday 
Schools  steadily  diminish. 

Let  us  begin  therefore  by  recognizing  the  superior  Home 

claims  and  sacredness  of  the  home  life;  and  by  a  deter-  lnfiuence 

■>  more 

mination  to  do  nothing  which  will  interfere  with  the  potent 
legitimate  function  of  the  parent  and  the  family,  con- lha"  ihat 
sidered  as  instruments  of  education,  in  the  best  and  school. 
truest  sense.  It  is  very  easy  for  those  of  us  who  are 
interested  in  a  society  or  an  institution  which  has  done 
great  service,  to  over-estimate  it,  and  to  become  so 
enamoured  with  a  particular  form  of  machinery,  that  we 
lose  sight  of  the  purpose  which  the  machine  is  meant  to 
fulfil.  But  we  must  beware  of  mistaking  means  for  ends. 
It  is  a  mistake  to  become  so  proud  of  the  extension  of 
our  Sunday  School  system,  as  to  think  it  a  high  triumph 
to  record  the  addition  of  thousands  to  the  roll  of  scholars 
year  by  year.  It  would  be  a  much  higher  triumph  if  we 
were  able  to  record  that  the  number  of  instructed  parents 
and  of  God-fearing  households,  among  the  working 
classes,  had  so  increased  that  the  Sunday  School  was 
becoming  a  superfluous  institution.  But  unfortunately 
we  are  a  long  way  from  this  goal.  The  ideal  household 
such  as  I  have  described  is  not  always  possible.     The 


372  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 

children  of  idle,  negligent,  and  ignorant  parents,  who 
are  simply  glad  to  be  rid  of  an  encumbrance  on  Sunday 
afternoons,  are  still  to  be  found  and  are  likely  to  be 
found  for  a  long  time  to  come.  For  these  the  Sunday 
School  is  a  beneficent  institution,  and  for  them  it  is  our 
duty  to  make  the  Sunday  School  as  efficient  for  its 
purpose  as  we  can. 
Sunday  in  But  in  trying  to  do  this,  we  shall  do  well  to  fashion 
komes"  our  course  OI  procedure,  in  view  of  the  fact  that  the 
school  is  rather  the  imperfect  substitute  for  the  home, 
than  a  supplement,  or  even  a  substitute  for  the  day 
school.  We  should  not  like,  in  the  case  of  our  own 
children,  to  fill  their  Sunday  leisure  with  lessons  or 
formal  teaching.  We  prefer  for  their  sake  to  get  rid  of 
the  associations  connected  with  the  school  and  its 
discipline,  and  to  place  them  within  the  reach  of  other 
influences  calculated  to  awaken  their  sympathies,  broaden 
their  intellectual  horizon,  and  encourage  their  aspirations 
after  higher  and  better  things  than  those  which  challenge 
their  attention  all  through  the  rest  of  the  week.  With 
this  view  we  do  not  encumber  them  with  rigid  rules 
as  to  what  is  or  what  is  not  permissible  on  the  Sunday; 
we  do  not  insist  on  a  Puritanical  identification  of  that 
day  with  the  Jewish  Sabbath;  but  we  place  within  their 
reach  books,  pictures,  employments,  which  though  they 
are  quite  compatible  with  serious  thought  do  not'  look 
didactic  and  forbidding,  or  challenge  the  children  for 
more  gravity  than  can  reasonably  be  expected  at  their 
age.  Nothing  tends  more  to  give  to  children  a  sense  of 
unreality  in  religious  lessons,  than  the  habit  of  exacting 
from  them  professions  of  faith,  or  acts  of  worship,  which  do 
not  honestly  correspond  to  their  present  stage  of  religious 
experience.  Above  all,  we  try  to  establish  in  their 
minds  happy  associations  with  the  day,  so  that  they  may 


Sunday  in  the  Iio»ic  373 

look  back  on  it  not  as  the  time  of  restraint  or  of  gloom 
but  as  the  most  interesting  episode  in  the  week,  none 
the  less  but  all  the  more  delightful  because  of  an  over- 
hanging sense  of  seriousness  and  detachment,  which  dis- 
tinguishes the  day's  pursuits  from  those  of  ordinary  life. 
A  wise  parent  does  not  talk  to  children  about  the  claims 
of  Sunday,  or  the  obligation  of  observing  it.  He  rather 
seeks  to  let  it  be  seen  indirectly  that  such  observance  is 
to  be  regarded  as  a  privilege  and  not  as  a  duty.  Indeed 
if  it  were  not  felt  to  be  a  privilege,  we  can  hardly  make 
children  see  how  it  can  be  a  duty. 

George  Herbert's  verses  well  describe  the  ideal 
Sunday  in  a  Christian  household :  — 

"  O  day  most  calm,  most  bright, 
The  fruit  of  this,  the  next  world's  bud; 

The  couch  of  time  ;   care's  balm  and  bay ; 
The  week  were  dark,  but  for  thy  light ; 
Thy  torch  doth  shew  the  way. 

Thou  art  a  clay  of  mirth  : 
And  where  the  week-days  trail  on  ground, 
Thy  flight  is  higher,  as  thy  birth  : 
O  let  me  take  thee  at  the  bound, 
Leaping  with  thee  from  seven  to  seven, 
Till  that  we  both,  being  toss'd  from  earth, 

Fly  hand  in  hand  to  heaven  !  "  1 

Now  the  more  nearly  we  can  approach  this  ideal  in 
the  Sunday  School  of  the  future  the  better.  Of  course 
there  must  be  lessons  and  some  formal  teaching.  But  in 
view  of  the  fact  that  lessons  and  formal  teaching  are 
accessible  to  the  children  all  the  rest  of  the  week,  I  am 
inclined  to  think  that  we  need  less  of  them  in  the  Sunday 
Schools  of  the  future,  and  more  of  those  civilizing  and 
religious  influences  which  though  they  operate  indirectly 

1  The  Temple. 


374  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 

The  go    farther    in  the  formation  of   character.     Foremost 

eac  ei .  among  these  influences  is  that  derived  from  the  presence 
and  the  personal  qualifications  of  the  teacher  himself. 
He  or  she  should  be  a  person  of  cultivated  mind,  one 
who  reads  much,  and  who  knows  the  temptations  which 
assail  his  scholars.  His  attainment  and  manners  should 
be  such  as  command  respect,  he  should  have  a  deep 
sense  of  the  realities  of  religion  and  of  its  importance,  and 
above  all  should  have  a  genuine  love  for  children,  and 
faith  in  the  boundless  possibilities  of  good,  which  lie 
more  or  less  hidden,  even  in  the  dullest  and  least 
interesting  scholar  in  his  class.  He  derives  great  in- 
fluence from  the  fact  that  he  is  not  a  paid  or  professional 
teacher,  but  is  drawn  to  the  children  simply  by  good  will 
and  a  desire  to  be  useful  to  them.  His  attitude  to  the 
children  should  be  less  that  of  an  instructor  or  a  lecturer, 
than  that  of  a  friend  and  companion.  Given  these 
conditions,  and  you  may  be  sure  that  the  mere  contact 
with  such  a  person  for  an  hour  or  two  in  the  week  will 
do  much  to  raise  the  tone  of  the  scholars,  to  awaken  in 
them  feelings  of  loyalty  and  personal  affection,  and  to 
produce  unconsciously  a  sentiment  of  reverence  for  the 
religion  of  which  the  teacher  is  for  the  time  the  principal 
exponent  and  representative.  Since  the  classes  in  a 
Sunday  School  are  small  there  is  the  possibility  of  a 
closer  intellectual  intimacy  between  teacher  and  taught 
than  is  possible  in  a  day  school,  and  the  character  of 
individual  scholars  can  be  better  studied. 
Conversa-  In  such  a  class,  conversation  is  one  of  the  most 
twn'  effective  instruments  of  culture      To  sit  "  a  passive  bucket 

to  be  pumped  into,"  as  Carlyle  said,  is  not  an  ex- 
hilarating process,  nor,  it  must  be  added,  a  very  useful 
one.  The  story  of  great  teachers  from  Socrates  down  to 
Arnold   and    Thring,    and    even    that    of    the    'Pastor 


Reading  aloud  375 


Pastorum  '  our  great  Teacher  and  Master,  shows  us  how 
much  is  done  by  conversation,  by  inviting  the  pupil  to 
express  his  thought,  to  state  his  difficulties,  and  to  take  a 
share  in  thinking  out  the  subject  for  himself.  How  often 
our  Lord  abandoned  altogether  the  didactic  and  impera- 
tive method,  so  dear  to  all  merely  mechanical  instructors, 
and  became  conversational  and  suggestive.  "What  think 
you?  How  readest  thou?"1  The  true  measure  of  our 
success  in  teaching  religion,  as  in  the  teaching  of  every- 
thing else,  is  not  to  be  found  in  the  number  of  facts  and 
truths  which  the  scholar  has  received  and  learned  on  our 
authority;  but  in  the  degree  in  which  the  teaching  has 
called  out  power,  mental  activity,  and  sympathy  on  the 
part  of  the  scholar  himself. 

A  part  of  each  Sunday's  schooltime  might  well  be  Reading 
devoted  to  a  reading  of  some  story,  or  poem,  some a  ou  ' 
episode  from  history  or  some  new  fact  in  the  annals  of 
our  own  time;  and  then  to  a  conversation  —  not  neces- 
sarily an  examination —  upon  it.  To  make  this  exercise 
really  helpful  and  inspiring  it  is  very  necessary  that  the 
teacher  should  in  his  own  reading,  whether  in  books 
or  newspapers,  keep  his  eyes  open  and  make  a  note  of 
any  incident  or  anecdote  which  is  likely  to  interest  the 
children  and  to  set  them  thinking.  There  should  be  a 
moral  meaning  —  an  element  of  religious  edification  in  it. 
But  this  meaning  need  not  be  obtrusive.  It  should  be 
there,  held  in  solution  so  to  speak,  and  left  to  make  its 
own  impression.  We  are  to  remember  that  the  best 
lessons  of  our  life  do  not  always  come  to  us  in  the  form 
of  lessons;  and  that  all  knowledge  does  not  necessarily 
assume  the  shape  of  knowledge.  A  second  requisite 
is  that  the  teacher  should  himself  acquire  the  art  of 

1  Ante,  pp.  33,  44. 


376  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 


reading.  Children  enjoy  listening  to  reading,  if  the  reader 
knows  his  art,  and  can  give  in  a  pleasing  dramatic  yet 
not  theatrical  way,  the  meaning  of  a  story.  Of  course 
we  can  all  read;  but  the  power  to  read  with  such  dis- 
tinctness and  intelligence  that  no  syllable  and  no  part  of 
the  meaning  of  the  writer  fails  to  be  communicated,  and 
that  there  is  an  added  charm  in  the  expression  which 
delights  the  hearer,  is  a  very  rare  power  indeed.  It  may 
be  acquired  by  anyone  who  thinks  it  worth  acquiring, 
and  when  acquired  it  will  add  greatly  to  the  usefulness 
of  the  Sunday  School  teacher.  You  want  to  give  the 
children  pleasant  associations  with  the  thought  of  books, 
and  an  appetite  for  reading  and  personal  cultivation  when 
they  are  at  home.  So  the  books  you  have  read,  the 
narrative  of  a  war,  examples  of  valour  and  self-devotion, 
the  holiday  journey  you  have  lately  taken,  may  all  in  turn 
be  made  the  subject  of  a  friendly  and  easy  conversational 
lesson  and  the  means  of  encouraging  the  children  to  talk 
in  their  turn.  Often  the  scholars  in  an  elder  class  may  be 
asked  to  give  their  own  account  of  any  book  they  have 
read,  or  any  new  experience  they  have  gained.  They  might 
be  shown  pictures  of  Bible  scenes,  of  historical  incidents, 
and  of  domestic  life,  and  asked  if  they  could  construct  or 
tell  the  story  which  the  picture  illustrates.  They  might 
be  invited  to  write  an  occasional  letter,  not  as  a  school 
exercise  to  be  examined  and  marked  as  for  competition, 
but  mainly  as  a  means  for  cultivating  reflection,  winning 
and  promoting  confidence,  and  enabling  the  teacher  to 
know  better  the  individual  character  of  his  scholars. 

Do  not  let  us  hamper  ourselves  with  theories  as  to 
which  of  all  these  devices  is  likely  to  be  most  instruc- 
tive. Try  them  all.  Make  experiments.  Discover  what 
it  is  that  interests  the  scholars,  and  then  use  it  and 
make  the  most  of  it.     For  that,  after  all,  is  the  best  and 


The  School  Library  ^yy 

the  fullest  of  promise,  which  the  young  people  like  and 
enjoy  most. 

Then    there    is   the    School   Library.      The   teacher  The 
should  know  something  of  its  contents,  and  be  able  to  / ■,"'"  , 

°  '  lAO)  my. 

advise  the  scholars  especially  in  the  upper  classes  as  to 
what  books  they  should  choose,  not  necessarily  goody 
nor  even  what  are  especially  called  religious  books,  but 
books  such  as  he  himself  has  read  with  profit  and 
enjoyment.  And  the  scholars  who  have  read  a  library 
book  might  well  be  asked  to  talk  of  it  and  to  say  whether 
and  why  they  liked  it.  Among  the  scholars  also  there 
will  be  many  who  will  soon  be  leaving  you,  and  in  whose 
future  you  are  interested.  It  is  well  therefore  to  ac- 
quaint yourself  with  the  Continuation  schools,  the  Young 
Men's  Christian  Association,  or  the  Bible  Class,  the 
Polytechnics,  or  the  Home  Reading  circles,  or  other 
institutions  in  the  neighbourhood,  in  order  that  you  may 
be  in  a  position  to  give  opportune  advice  to  promising 
and  thoughtful  scholars.  And  if  you  encourage  them 
after  leaving  the  school  to  write  to  you  and  tell  you  what 
they  are  doing,  you  forge  a  new  link  of  sympathy  between 
them  and  yourself.  Nothing  is  more  likely  to  prove  a 
moral  safeguard  to  young  people,  just  entering  into 
the  world,  than  the  knowledge  that  they  have  one  friend 
in  a  superior  position  to  their  own,  a  friend  who  will  be 
glad  of  their  successes,  and  will  be  pained  to  hear  of  any 
misconduct.  And  the  poorer  and  less  fortunate  in  their 
surroundings  the  scholars  are,  the  more  valuable  will  such 
a  safeguard  become. 

It  may  be  said  that  all  this  is  not  the  business  of  a 
school.  Then  we  should  try  to  enlarge  our  conception 
of  what  the  business  of  a  school  is  and  might  be, 
especially  of  one  held  on  Sunday.  Let  us  ask  ourselves 
what  we  should  like  to  talk  about  to  our  own  children  on 


378  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 

Sunday  at  home.  And  thus  we  shall  be  led  to  admit 
that  our  talk  would  not  be  all  about  theology;  and  that 
anything  which  enlarged  the  range  of  their  ideas,  gave 
them  new  intellectual  resources,  gave  them  a  heightened 
interest  in  the  richness  and  beauty  of  the  world,  in  the 
lives  and  doings  of  heroes  and  saints,  and  helped  to 
introduce  them  into  the  society  of  great  writers,  would 
seem  to  us  to  be  a  legitimate  part  of  the  Sunday  occupa- 
tion. But  all  this  comes  of  free  unrestrained  intellectual 
intercourse  between  parent  and  child;  and  it  is  precisely 
to  that  kind  of  intercourse  that  we  should  desire,  as  far 
as  circumstances  will  allow,  that  the  relation  of  teacher 
and  scholar  in  the  Sunday  School  should  be  assimilated. 
Religious  But  while  I  desire  to  emphasize  the  importance  of 

'/ion'"'  tnose  features  of  Sunday  School  work  which  differentiate 
it  from  the  work  of  an  ordinary  school;  and  while  I 
should  like  to  introduce  any  employments  which  serve  to 
bring  the  young  people  into  closer  sympathy  with  culti- 
vated persons,  and  to  promote  a  real  interchange  of 
thought  and  experience  between  them,  we  may  not  forget 
that  after  all  the  chief  raison  d'etre  of  a  Sunday  School  in 
the  minds  of  most  persons  is  that  it  should  be  a  place  of 
religious  instruction.  Now,  viewed  in. this  aspect,  there 
is  much  to  be  learned  from  the  experience  of  good  day 
schools;  and  it  is  worth  while  to  consider  in  what 
respects  that  experience  should  furnish  hints  and  guidance 
to  the  voluntary  and  unprofessional  teachers  who  under- 
take the  charge  of  our  Sunday  scholars. 
A  teacher's  And  the  first  of  the  facts  which  such  experience  brings 
equipment.  ^efore  us>  js  t]iat  t^js  Dusiness  0f  teaching  is  not  an  easy 

one, —  not  one  to  be  undertaken  without  previous  thought 
and  preparation,  or  merely  in  a  kindly  amateurish  spirit. 
Teaching  is  a  fine  art.  It  has  its  rules  and  principles. 
There  are  right  ways  and  wrong  ways  of  beginning  and 


The  teacher  s  equipment  379 

ending  a  lesson,  of  awakening  interest,  of  putting  ques- 
tions, of  recapitulation,  of  rinding  the  nearest  avenue  to 
the  understanding,  the  conscience,  and  the  sympathy  of 
children  of  different  ages;  and  there  are  reasons  to  be 
given  why  some  ways  are  right  and  others  wrong.  In 
our  public  schools,  whether  primary  or  secondary, 
we  are  becoming  more  and  more  convinced  that  some 
knowledge  of  these  things  is  indispensable  and  makes 
all  the  difference  between  the  skilled  and  the  unskilled 
practitioner  in  his  art.  The  best  educational  literature, 
the  lives  of  great  teachers,  the  records  of  their  successes 
and  their  failures,  and  some  acquaintance  with  the  laws 
of  mind,  the  growth  of  the  mental  faculties,  the  conditions 
on  which  memory,  the  reasoning  power,  and  the  appetite 
for  knowledge  can  best  be  cultivated,  are  all  included  in 
the  course  of  professional  instruction  laid  down  in  our 
training  colleges,  and  in  the  requirements  of  the  Univer- 
sitiesforthediplomaof competencyasa  teacher.  Itwould 
be  an  unreasonable  burden  to  lay  upon  the  kindly  Chris- 
tian men  and  women  who  now  undertake  Sunday  School 
work,  if  anyone  insisted  on  their  becoming  systematic 
students  in  this  sense.  Moreover,  any  attempt  to  make 
an  examination  in  the  philosophy  or  methods  of  educa- 
tion, a  condition  of  becoming  recognized  as  a  qualified 
Sunday  School  teacher,  would  exclude  from  the  ranks 
many  of  the  most  valuable  of  our  workers,  —  men  and 
women  qualified  by  personal  cultivation,  by  religious 
conviction,  by  insight  into  child-nature,  and  by  a  love  for 
children,  to  exercise  in  a  high  degree  that  kind  of  indi- 
rect influence  to  which  as  we  have  said  more  importance 
should  be  attached  than  to  actual  formal  teaching.  But 
we  cannot  hope  to  secure  this  kind  of  influence  if  we  are 
satisfied  to  fill  the  teachers'  chairs  with  persons,  who 
in  age,  refinement,  or  social  position  are  only  a  little 


3  8o  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 

removed  from  the  class  to  which  the  scholars  belong. 
Nevertheless  it  is  safer  to  say  to  all  teachers,  however 
they  maybe  equipped  in  other  ways,  that  they  will  become 
still  better  fitted  to  discharge  their  duties,  if  they  will 
when  opportunity  occurs  acquaint  themselves  with  some 
of  the  best  books  which  have  been  written  on  the  theory 
and  practice  of  teaching. 
Need  of  One  of  the  first  particulars  in  which  the  trained  is 

Hon.0™'  distinguished  from  the  untrained  teacher,  is  that  he  does 
not  attempt  to  give  an  unpremeditated  lesson.  He  thinks 
out  the  whole  of  it  beforehand,  tries  to  anticipate  the 
difficulties  which  may  arise  as  the  lesson  proceeds, 
brings  together  such  illustrations,  visible  or  merely  oral, 
as  are  likely  to  be  useful,  determines  how  long  the  lesson 
ought  to  be,  and  makes  up  his  mind  not  to  attempt  more 
than  can  be  properly  dealt  with  in  the  time.  It  is  from 
this  point  of  view  that  we  value  the  schemes  of  systematic 
Bible  lessons  which  are  published  periodically  by  the  two 
great  Societies  —  the  Sunday  School  Union  and  the 
Church  of  England  Sunday  School  Union.  Those  lessons 
are  consecutive,  they  are  properly  linked  together,  and 
they  are  a  check  upon  desultoriness.  Nevertheless,  it  is 
not  well  to  be  enslaved  by  them  or  to  follow  them  too 
rigidly.  Occasions  often  arise  when  it  is  well  to  depart 
from  the  prescribed  programme,  and  when  some  other 
subject  is  more  appropriate  and  more  useful.  But  at  any 
rate  the  formal  lesson  if  given  should  be  well  rehearsed 
in  advance.  The  main  test  of  a  lesson  is  the  interest 
excited  on  the  part  of  the  scholars,  and  unless  they  are 
interested  the  lesson  is  a  failure.  The  skilled  teacher 
knows,  too,  that  the  needful  interest  is  never  aroused 
unless  the  scholar  is  made  to  think,  nor  unless  his  facul- 
ties are  set  to  work  and  required  to  do  something.  Half 
the  lessons  which  it  was  once  my  business  to  hear  from 


Questioning  381 

students  in  the  Training  College  erred  in  attempting  to 
do  too  much,  and  in  leaving  no  room,  first  for  a  few 
preparatory  questions  to  ascertain  what  the  children 
already  knew  on  the  subject,  and  to  find  what  basis  there 
was  on  which  to  build  the  lesson;  and  next  for  due  recapi- 
tulation and  for  bringing  the  lesson  to  such  a  point,  that 
it  left  a  coherent  and  definite  impression  on  the  memory. 
And  if  this  is  true  in  secular  teaching,  it  is  still  more 
true  in  moral  and  religious  instruction.  A  lesson  is  a 
good  one  if  it  enforces  and  illustrates  some  single 
cardinal  truth.  It  is  a  bad  one  if  it  attempts  to  enforce 
more  facts  or  truths  than  can  reasonably  be  held  together 
in  the  mind,  or  than  have  unity  or  cohesion  of  their  own. 
To  an  inexperienced  teacher  the  easiest  and  most  obvious 
way  of  communicating  knowledge  is  to  preach.  But  of 
all  methods,  this  is  the  least  effective  to  young  children. 
Be  sure  once  for  all  that  preaching  in  a  class  is  not 
teaching. 

Again,  it  is  one  of  the  most  familiar  results  of  experi-  Question- 
ence  in  good  schools  that  the  exercise  of  questioning  is  u's' 
of  little  or  no  value,  so  long  as  the  answers  consist  of 
single  words  only.  It  is  very  easy  to  supply  by  mere 
knack  or  by  watching  the  suggestions  of  a  teacher,  a 
single  word  which  he  asks  for,  without  knowing  anything 
of  the  sentence  of  which  that  word  forms  a  part.  And 
questions  which  require  no  reply  but  'yes  '  and  'no,'  are 
not  in  fact  questions  at  all.1  The  answer  is  purely 
mechanical;  the  tone  in  which  you  put  the  question 
shows  what  you  expect,  and  when  you  have  got  it,  you 
have  got  what  is  of  little  value.  For  acquiescence  is  not 
knowledge.  It  is  not  even  belief.  A  good  child  will 
assent  to  any  propositions  you  bring  before  him.  But 
his  mere  assent  means  nothing,  and  is  worth  nothing. 

1  Lectures  on  Teaching,  Chapter  VI. 


382  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 


Hence  the  practice  of  the  best  American  teachers,  who 
always  insist  on  receiving  whole  sentences  for  answers. 
Verbal  Another  inference  which  may  be  usefully  drawn  from 

memory.  ^  experjence  0f  good  secular  teachers  is  that  there  is  a 
great  difference  between  good  and  bad  methods  of  culti- 
vating the  verbal  memory.  Among  those  who  are  not 
familiar  with  the  science  of  education,  nothing  seems  a 
more  obvious  method  of  teaching  than  to  tell  the  pupil  to 
learn  something  out  of  a  book  and  then  come  up  to  "  say  his 
lesson."  Now  of  course  memory  is  a  faculty  which  needs 
to  be  cultivated;  but  there  is  a  great  deal  of  difference 
between  remembering  the  substance  of  what  is  taught,  and 
remembering  one  particular  form  of  words,  in  which  that 
substance  is  expressed.  What  we  want  most  is  that  the 
truth,  or  the  argument,  or  the  fact  which  we  value  shall 
be  understood,  so  that  the  pupil  shall  be  led  to  think 
about  it,  and  to  make  it  his  own,  and  to  be  helped  to 
express  it  in  his  own  words.  Learning  by  heart  a  formula 
of  words  may  easily  become  a  substitute  for  thinking  and 
not  a  help  to  it.  The  only  formulary  of  words  in  the 
New  Testament  is  a  formulary  of  devotion,  not  of  belief. 
There  is  no  compendium  of  definite  propositions,  analo- 
gous to  our  Creed,  set  forth  in  Scripture  by  authority  and 
required  as  a  condition  of  membership  in  the  Christian 
Church.  We  are  therefore  free  to  ask  ourselves,  in  the 
light  of  experience,  what  is  the  share  that  mere  memory 
lessons,  the  learning  by  heart  of  particular  words,  ought 
to  take  in  Christian  education?  And  I  think  the 
answer  is  clear.1  When  the  object  of  the  teacher  is  to 
explain  a  truth  or  doctrine,  to  picture  out  a  scene  or  an 
event,  or  to  enforce  a  moral  lesson,  he  does  well  to  pre- 
sent the  lesson  under  several  aspects,  to  illustrate  it  in 
different  ways,  and  to  ask  to  have  it  reproduced  in  the 

1  Lectures  on  Teaching,  Chapter  V.  p.  138. 


Fo  i  -m  ulai  ~ii  'S  383 


scholar's  own  language.  But  when  a  truth  is  expressed 
in  the  most  concise  and  clear  language  of  which  it  is 
capable,  when  the  words  are,  so  to  speak,  consecrated 
by  long  usage,  and  by  great  authority,  or  when  there  is 
beauty  of  form  and  expression,  which  makes  it  fall 
pleasantly  on  the  ear,  and  linger  lovingly  in  our  after 
recollections,  then  the  verbal  memory  may  very  wisely 
be  appealed  to.  These  conditions  are  fulfilled,  for 
example,  by  many  passages  of  Scripture;  but  in  selecting 
these  for  repetition,  we  should  choose  only  those  which 
are  short  and  which  embody  in  them  some  one  precept 
or  idea,  in  the  clearest  and  most  telling  form.  So  also 
good  hymns  and  religious  poetry  have  real  value  in  the 
religious  culture  of  the  young.  But  in  selecting  verses 
for  repetition,  it  is  well  to  take  only  those  which  are 
really  poetry;  where  the  imagery  is  of  a  kind  likely  to 
appeal  both  to  the  understanding  and  to  the  taste;  and 
where  the  author  has  not  been  anxious  to  pack  as  much 
theology  as  he  can  into  his  verse.  It  is  the  proper  office 
of  religious  poetry  to  purify  the  religious  emotions,  to 
exalt  and  broaden  the  imagination,  and  to  touch  the  heart. 
It  is  not  the  chief  function  of  such  poetry  to  teach 
doctrinal  truth  at  all.  Following  our  Lord's  own  precept, 
we  do  well  to  commit  to  memory  forms  of  prayer,  and 
for  this  purpose  the  practice  in  most  Sunday  Schools  of 
learning  by  heart  the  Collect  for  each  Sunday  is  worthy 
of  universal  adoption.  For  besides  their  conciseness  and 
the  devout  aspiration  after  holiness  which  they  embody, 
many  of  the  collects  in  the  Prayer  Book  are  distinguished 
by  singular  grace  of  literary  expression,  which  adds  much 
to  their  beauty,  and  to  their  chance  of  being  permanently 
fixed  in  the  memory. 

I  am  afraid  that  some  of  you  will  think  me  a  heretic,  Formu- 
when  I  repeat  here  what  I  have  often  said  before,  that  1 laries- 


384  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 

attach  small  value  to  catechisms,  as  educational  instru- 
ments. We  never  employ  them  in  teaching  any  other 
subject  than  religion.1  And  the  reasons  are  obvious. 
There  are  stereotyped  questions  and  stereotyped  answers, 
both  in  a  fixed  and  unalterable  form  of  words.  They 
leave  no  room  for  the  play  of  intelligence  upon  and 
around  the  subject,  or  for  the  suggestion  and  removal  of 
difficulties.  They  stand  between  the  giver  and  the  re- 
ceiver of  knowledge  and  do  not  help  either  of  them  much. 
They  rather  keep  them  apart  than  bring  them  together. 
They  furnish  to  all  unskilful  teachers  an  excuse  for  not 
taking  the  trouble  to  frame  questions  of  their  own.  More- 
over a  printed  question  and  its  answer  taken  together 
form  a  statement,  either  of  doctrine  or  of  fact;  but  either 
the  question  or  the  answer  by  itself  is  only  half  of  that 
statement.  And  we  ask  our  children  to  learn  the  answer, 
without  learning  the  question.  Thus  the  passage  com- 
mitted to  memory  is  incomplete  and  often  unintelligible. 
Here  again  I  would  fain  appeal  to  your  own  experience. 
We  are  all  tempted  to  fall  back  on  mechanical  methods, 
on  verbalism,  and  on  set  lessons.  They  are  all  so  much 
easier  than  real  exercises  of  thought.  But,  as  a  matter  of 
fact,  do  you,  or  would  you  if  you  did  not  happen  to  be 
teachers,  find  that  the  fragmentary  answers  which  you 
learned  in  the  Catechism  abide  in  your  memory,  and 
help  you  much  in  your  religious  life?  On  the  other 
hand,  what  hymns,  texts,  and  verses  are  they  which  have 
become,  as  years  went  on,  substantial  and  permanent 
factors  in  the  formation  of  your  character,  in  solacing  you 
in  hours  of  weakness,  in  helping  your  devotions,  and  in 
inspiring  your  life?  It  is  to  this  test  that  we  ought 
oftener  to  bring  our  own  theories  as  to  what  should  and 
what  should  not  be  learned  by  heart  in  a  Sunday  School. 

1  Ante,  p.  362. 


Catechising  in  Church  385 

Let  us  ask  ourselves  honestly  the  questions :  —  Was  I 
aided  much  in  the  formation  of  my  religious  convictions, 
by  being  called  upon  in  youth  to  stand  up  and  affirm  a 
number  of  theological  propositions  which  I  only  im- 
perfectly understood  ?  When  religious  truths  came  home 
to  my  intelligence  or  my  conscience  as  a  child,  did  they 
come  more  effectively  as  abstract  statements  of  truth,  or 
in  the  form  of  concrete  examples?  When  I  look  back 
on  the  work  of  my  own  religious  instructors,  do  I  find 
that  I  learned  most  from  their  formal  lessons,  or  from 
the  influence  of  their  character  and  their  sympathy,  the 
near  contact  established  between  their  mature  and  my 
immature  intelligence,  and  the  affectionate  interest  they 
showed  in  my  spiritual  welfare?  The  replies  to  these 
questions  will  be  found  most  instructive  to  those  who 
hope  to  succeed  as  Sunday  School  teachers. 

The  ancient  and  edifying  practice  of  catechising  Cateckis- 
publicly  in  the  church  on  Sunday  afternoons  has  fallen  ['^fj.^ 
in  many  places  into  practical  disuse.  Yet  the  injunctions 
of  the  Church  of  England  are  unmistakeable.  And  you 
will  observe  that  the  rubric  does  not  content  itself  with 
the  saying  of  the  Catechism,  but  desires  the  Curate 
"openly  to  instruct  and  examine  the  children  in  some 
parts  of  the  Catechism."  That  is  to  say,  he  shall  take 
the  Catechism,  and  make  it  the  basis  of  explanation 
and  of  such  further  questioning  as  may  be  necessary 
to  make  its  meaning  clear  and  effective.  No  series  of 
good  questions  can  ever  be  predetermined.  There  must 
be  room  for  a  reasonable  amount  of  discursiveness,  for 
'give  and  take,'  for  dealing  with  unexpected  difficulties, 
for  letting  the  new  question  grow  out  of  the  preceding 
answer;  and  all  this  is  clearly  contemplated  by  the 
requirements  of  the  Prayer  Book,  which  would  certainly 
not  be  satisfied  by  treating  the  Catechism  as  a  memory 

2C 


386 


The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 


Work 
for  the 
educated 
laity. 


lesson  only,  and  learning  by  heart  printed  answers  to 
printed  questions.  Catechisms  and  formularies  of  faith 
are  only  valuable  when  used  for  the  purpose  of  showing 
the  points  to  be  aimed  at,  and  the  fixed  truths  round 
which  explanations  and  spontaneous  questions  may 
cluster.  But  they  must  not  be  regarded  as  self-contained 
and  complete  educational  instruments. 

We  may  suspect  that  the  real  reason  why  the  rubric 
on  this  point  is  so  generally  disregarded  by  the  clergy,  is 
the  undoubted  difficulty  of  the  task.  To  conduct  such 
an  exercise  well  requires  exceptional  skill,  mental  alacrity, 
fertility  of  illustration,  promptitude  in  dealing  with  un- 
expected answers,  and  building  new  questions  upon  them, 
tact  in  seizing  upon  incidents  in  the  public  life  of  the 
nation,  or  in  the  narrower  life  of  the  school  and  the 
children's  homes,  in  order  to  show  the  working  out  into 
practice  of  Christian  principles.  And  thus  itcomesto  pass 
that  the  exercise  is  a  hard  one  for  the  man  who  conducts 
it.  I  suppose,  though  I  have  not  tried,  that  it  is  rather 
harder  than  preaching  a  sermon.  Yet  it  is  one  of 
the  best  instruments  for  Christian  edification  which  the 
Church  possesses.  Let  me  frankly  own  to  a  wish  that 
some  of  the  zeal  shewn  by  the  younger  clergy,  in  the 
multiplication  of  Eucharisticand  other  services  for  adults, 
could  be  diverted  into  this  channel  and  made  to  tell  on 
the  younger  members  of  their  flock.  No  doubt  this 
means  more  careful  preparation  and  greater  intellectual 
effort  than  is  called  for  in  ordinary  clerical  routine,  but 
the  effort  is  worth  making  and  would  be  richly  repaid. 
We  must  confess  however  that  this  effort  is  made  less 
frequently  than  could  be  desired. 

There  is  therefore  all  the  more  room  for  the  educated 
laity  to  take  a  substantial  share  in  this  most  necessary 
work.     And  to  some  of  those  whose  piety,  refinement, 


Attendance  at  public  worship  387 

and  personal  qualities  will  be  of  the  highest  service, 
the  work  will  certainly  prove  no  less  attractive,  because 
there  is  no  visible  honour  nor  profit  to  be  gained  from 
it,  because  there  is  no  notoriety  or  distinction  associated 
with  it  —  nothing  to  give  you  assurance  of  success  except 
the  kindling  eye  and  the  glowing  cheek  of  the  little 
child  who  receives  a  new  truth,  or  becomes  conscious 
of  a  new  power.  For  the  results  of  the  teaching  are 
not  tested  by  examiners,  or  made  the  subjects  of  official 
inspection  or  other  public  recognition.  The  work  is 
done  in  a  comparatively  obscure  and  unnoticed  region, 
in  which  personal  influence  is  silently  exercised  and  in 
which  Christian  endeavour  is  its  own  reward. 

Children's  services  have  been  introduced  very  wisely  Children's 
and  with  excellent  effect  into  many  churches.  The  con- se'' 
dition  of  their  effectiveness  are  that  they  shall  be  short, 
shall  enlist  from  the  first  the  co-operation  of  the  children 
in  singing  and  in  prayer;  and  that  the  addresses  or  short 
sermons  shall  be  less  directed  to  the  exposition  of 
theological  truths  than  to  the  awakening  of  the  slumber- 
ing conscience,  to  the  elucidation  of  our  Lord's  life  and 
teaching,  to  the  poetry  and  the  dramatic  incidents  of  Bible 
story,  and  to  the  application  of  Christian  truths  to  the 
conduct  and  daily  life  of  the  child.  Above  all  a  children's 
service  should  excite  interest,  and  give  to  them  bright  and 
happy  associations  with  the  act  of  public  worship. 

Here  is  one  test  by  which  the  efficiency  of  our  Sunday  Forma/ion 

Schools  may  fairly  be  measured  and  from  which  our^/,//()/ 

teachers  ought  not  to  shrink.     Do  the  scholars  in  our  attending 

Sunday   Schools    afterwards    become    attached    to    the^""' 

}  worship. 

Church  which  has  instructed  them;  and  when  they  are 
free,  do  they  voluntarily  attend  her  services?  Unless 
they  do,  there  is  something  defective  in  the  methods  we 
adopt,  or  in  the  influence  we  exert.     Now  let  us  be  quite 


388  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Ftttnre 

candid  with  ourselves  on  this  point.  Considered  as  an 
instrument  for  attaching  children  to  Christian  churches 
and  interesting  them  permanently  in  public  worship,  the 
Sunday  School  of  the  past  has  proved  to  be  a  failure. 
I  once  met  a  young  workman  in  whom  I  had  felt  some 
interest,  and  asked  him  among  other  things  whether  he 
attended  a  place  of  worship  on  Sunday.  "O  Sir,"  he 
replied,  "  I  have  left  school  now."  You  see  he  associated 
the  act  of  going  to  church  with  part  of  the  school  disci- 
pline. Perhaps  he  had  been  required  to  sit  with  others 
in  a  gallery,  and  look  good,  during  a  long  service  which 
was  not  well  suited  for  him,  and  which  he  felt  to  be 
wearisome.  At  any  rate,  he  had  failed  to  acquire  a  liking 
for  public  worship,  and  to  that  extent  his  early  school 
training  had  proved  unavailing  to  fulfil  one  of  its  chief 
objects,  to  introduce  him  into  the  Christian  Church, and  to 
make  him  desire  and  value  its  privileges.  What  those 
privileges  are  and  what  they  are  worth,  will  become 
clearer  to  him,  in  proportion  as  public  worship  is  made 
interesting  and  attractive,  and  is  not  enjoined  by 
authority  as  a  matter  of  obligation. 
Theologi-  And  with  regard  to  that  part  of  your  own  teaching 

which  is  specially  religious  or  theological,  it  is  well  to 
keep  ever  in  view  the  fact  that  you  cannot  hope  to  convey 
into  the  minds  of  young  children  convictions  stronger 
than  your  own,  or  even  as  strong  as  your  own.  If  there 
be  Bible  stories,  about  the  historic  truth  or  the  ethical 
value  of  which  you  have  any  private  misgivings,  do  not 
attempt  to  teach  them.  The  plea  often  urged  that  chil- 
dren should  be  asked  to  believe  more  than  adults  believe; 
that  it  is  good  for  them  at  first  to  accept  the  traditional 
orthodoxy,  even  though  in  after  life  when  the  critical 
faculty  is  duly  awakened,  their  views  will  be  corrected, 
is  not  one  which  will  bear  the  test  of  practical  experience, 


cal  teach 
ing. 


Theological  teaching  389 

nor  indeed  is  it  quite  defensible  from  the  point  of  view 
of  Christian  honesty.  So  if  your  own  knowledge  of 
science  or  history  makes  it  difficult  for  you  to  accept 
literally  the  truth  of  any  details  of  the  Scripture  narrative, 
or  to  see  clearly  its  moral  significance,  it  is  wise  to 
confine  your  lessons  to  those  portions  of  the  Bible  about 
which  you  have  no  difficulties,  and  which  you  have  felt 
to  be  of  most  value  in  the  formation  of  your  own  spiritual 
life.  The  field  thus  open  to  you  is  still  very  wide.  There 
are  stories  and  parables,  poetry  and  devotion,  the  narra- 
tive of  a  Saviour's  life  and  teaching,  the  deeds  of  heroes, 
and  the  utterances  of  prophets.  If  we  can  teach  these 
things  well,  and  if  we  find  that  the  teaching  of  them 
interests  ourselves  as  well  as  the  scholars,  we  may  be  well 
content  to  make  such  topics  the  staple  of  our  religious 
instruction.  But  if  we  cannot  teach  doctrines  ex  animo 
and  with  the  full  consent  both  of  our  intelligence  and  of 
our  hearts,  it  is  better  not  to  attempt  to  teach  them. 
It  is  above  all  things  necessary  that  we  should  observe 
perfect  candour  towards  the  children,  and  not  ask  their 
acceptance  of  statements  of  truth  which  we  expect  them 
to  unlearn  when  they  grow  up.  On  this  point  let  me 
commend  to  you  the  weighty  words  of  a  late  American 
prelate :  — 

"There  is  a  class  of  books  and  teachers  —  the  ordinary  Sunday 
School  teacher  is  often  of  that  sort  —  who,  it  seems  to  me,  does  very 
much,  partly  from  timidity,  partly  from  laziness,  partly  from  sensa- 
tionalism, to  keep  a  certain  unreality  and  insincerity  in  the  religious 
teaching  of  the  young.  Everywhere  but  in  religion  —  in  history,  in 
science  —  each  new  and  truer  view,  as  soon  as  it  is  once  established, 
passes  instantly  into  the  school  books  of  the  land.  Am  I  not  right 
in  saying  that  there  are  great  convictions  about  Scripture  and  the 
Christian  faith  which  are  heartily  accepted  by  the  great  mass  of 
thinking  Christian  people  now  which  are  not.  being  taught  to  the 
children  of   to-day  ?     If  that  is  so,  as  I   fear  it  is,  then  this  new 


390  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 

generation  has  got  to  fight  over  again  the  battle  that  our  generation 
has  fought,  and  fight  it  too  less  hopefully,  because  there  will  have 
been  less  of  sincerity  in  its  education.  It  is  always  a  better  and 
safer  process  to  outgrow  a  doctrine  that  we  have  been  sincerely 
taught,  than  to  abandon  one  that  had  no  real  hold  upon  our  teacher's 
mind.  In  the  first  case  we  keep  much  of  the  sincerity,  even  if  we 
let  the  doctrine  go.  In  the  second  case,  when  we  let  go  the 
doctrine,  there  is  nothing  left.  Is  there  not  here  the  secret  of  much 
of  the  ineffective  religious  teaching  of  the  young,  of  the  way  they 
cast  our  teaching  off  when  they  grow  up  ?  No  !  my  dear  friends,  all 
of  you  anywhere  who  are  called  to  teach,  with  larger  faith  in  truth, 
with  larger  faith  in  God,  with  wise  love  for  his  children,  I  beg  you 
to  make  truthfulness  the  first  law  of  your  teaching.  Never  tell  a 
child  that  he  must  believe  what  "you  do  not  believe,  nor  teach  him 
that  he  must  go  through  any  experience  which  you  are  not  sure  is 
necessary  to  his  conversion  and  his  Christian  life."  x 

So  if  much  of  the  current  teaching  in  our  Sunday 
Schools  has  failed  to  interest  children,  let  us  try  to  find 
something  that  will  interest  them.  We  must  remember 
that  they  need  to  be  humanized,  softened,  and  inspired, 
as  well  as  taught;  and  that  whatever  will  effect  this 
purpose  is  within  the  legitimate  province  of  a  Sunday 
School.  We  are  safe  in  resolving  to  give  to  them  of  our 
best  —  the  best  of  our  reading,  of  our  thinking,  and  of  our 
experience  in  life  —  so  long  as  it  is  fitted  for  their  age  and 
can  be  made  to  tell  on  their  taste  and  character;  whether 
it  is  set  down  in  a  scheme  of  formal  lessons  or  not. 
And  as  to  our  very  natural  wish  to  make  good  Church- 
men as  well  as  good  and  intelligent  Christians,  I  think  the 
less  prominently  we  set  that  before  us  as  the  end  to  be 
attained  the  better.  Be  sure  that  the  indirect  influence 
of  your  character  and  sympathy  will  do  more  to  attract 
your  scholars  to  the  Christian  community  with  which 
you  are   identified,   than  any  amount  of  controversial 

1  Bishop  Phillips  Brooks  of  Massachusetts. 


General  Conclusions  391 

teaching  consciously  designed  to  combat  heterodoxy  or 
to  strengthen  particular  denominational  interests. 

The  conclusions  to  which  I  have  sought  to  lead  this  General 
audience,   among  whom   I   know  there  are  very  many*?***" 
devoted  teachers  in  Church  Sunday  Schools,  may  be  thus 
briefly  recapitulated:  — 

(1)  That  the  general  diffusion  of  elementary  educa- 
tion has  profoundly  altered  the  character  of  the  whole 
problem,  and  diminished  the  force  of  some  of  the  argu- 
ments which  led  to  the  establishment  of  Sunday  Schools 
a  century  ago. 

(2)  That  in  proportion  to  the  increase  of  orderly  and 
God-fearing  homes  among  the  people,  and  to  advancing 
intelligence  and  sense  of  responsibility  among  parents,  we 
might  be  well  content  to  see  the  need  for  Sunday  Schools 
gradually  disappear. 

(3)  That  meanwhile  it  should  be  the  office  of  the 
Sunday  School  to  act  as  a  substitute  —  even  though  an 
imperfect  one  —  for  a  Christian  home,  rather  than  as  a 
supplement  to  the  day  school. 

(4)  That,  since  religious  instruction  must  always  be 
a  part  of  the  work  of  Sunday  Schools,  the  methods  of 
instruction  in  them  should  be  revised  and  improved.  In 
so  far  as  they  are  schools,  efforts  should  be  directed  to 
make  them  good  schools,  and  to  adopt  the  best  known 
devices  by  which  interest  is  excited  and  order  secured  by 
skilled  teachers  in  good  secular  schools. 

(5)  That  so  long  as  distinctive  religious  instruction 
can  be  effectively  given,  it  may  rightly  claim  to  form  the 
staple  of  a  Sunday  School  teacher's  work.  But  that  if  it 
is  not  done  well,  and  if  the  teacher  has  not  the  gift  of 
inspiring  children  with  a  liking  for  it,  he  should  not 
disdain  to  seek  other  means  of  stirring  their  consciences 
and  attracting  their  sympathetic  attention, 


392  The  Sunday  School  of  the  Future 

(6)  For  after  all,  a  Sunday  School  is  not  only 
a  place  for  formal  religious  teaching,  but  also  a  con- 
trivance for  exercising  personal  influence  and  of  bringing 
the  young  into  nearer  relations  with  some  one  who  lives 
habitually  on  a  higher  plane  than  their  own,  and  who  yet 
can  without  any  show  of  condescension  put  himself  or 
herself  into  the  position  of  a  friend  and  counsellor,  in- 
terested not  only  in  the  school  and  the  Church,  but  in 
the  relation  of  both  to  the  home,  and  to  the  conduct  and 
future  prospects  of  the  scholar. 

(7)  Hence  it  is  expedient  that  one  portion  of  the 
Sunday  afternoon's  meeting  should  be  employed  in  read- 
ing and  conversation,  not  necessarily  with  a  didactic 
purpose,  but  with  a  view  to  open  the  mind,  and  to  form 
the  love  of  reading,  and  to  awaken  an  interest  in  intel- 
lectual pursuits.  And  in  the  selection  of  topics  it  is  well 
that  the  teacher  should  not  hamper  himself  with  any 
formal  rules,  but  should  follow  to  some  extent  his  own 
tastes  and  preferences.  That  which  has  enriched  his  own 
thoughts  most,  and  in  which  he  feels  the  strongest 
interest  is  probably  that  on  which  he  can  talk  to  his 
scholars  most  effectively,  and  in  which  he  is  most  likely 
to  kindle  in  them  a  responsive  interest. 

The  There  are  among  those  who  hear  me,  some  who  have 

Sunday      serious  misgivings  lest  in  thus  widening   the   area   of 

School  not  &  to  & 

only  a        Sunday  School  work,  they  should  be  departing  from  the 
place  for  pUre|v  religious  purpose  which  has  hitherto  been  under- 

rehgious 

instruc-     stood  to  control  that  work.     But  such  persons  will  do 
Hon,  but     weu  to  consider  how  very  imperfectly  even  that  purpose 

also  a 

centre  of    has  hitherto  been  fulfilled,  and  how  little  it  is  likely  to 
avihza-     be  fulfilled,  so  long  as  special  religious  edification  or  the 

lion  and  .  .    _,.         ,  ,  .  .     .  ,  . 

social         promotion  of  Churchmanship  is  regarded  as  something 
improve-    apart  from  the  general  character  and  life  of  the  child, 

fflCTtt 

and  as  constituting  the  sole  business  of  the  first  day  of 
the  week.     They  will  also  recognize  the  truth  that  after 


General  Conclusions  393 

all,  intellectual  culture  is  closely  akin  to  religion  and  is 
indeed  part  of  it.  When  this  is  considered,  it  will  be 
seen  that  the  Sunday  School  of  the  future  can  occupy  a 
place  in  our  system  of  public  education,  which  the  public 
elementary  school  can  never  fill;  because  its  teaching 
is  less  formal,  more  intimate,  more  inspiring,  and  can 
connect  itself  more  closely  with  the  personal  character 
and  daily  life  of  the  individual  scholar. 

Every  institution  which  has  the  secret  of  true  life  in 
it,  has  in  it  possibilities  of  adapting  itself  to  new  con- 
ditions; and  its  right  to  survive  depends  largely  on  the 
degree  in  which  these  possibilities  are  understood  and 
utilized.  Here  then  is  part  of  the  task  which  lies  before 
the  Sunday  School  teachers  of  the  next  century.  But  it 
demands  from  them  some  freshness  of  mind,  and  some 
freedom  from  traditional  ideals  and  methods,  in  order 
that  the  work  may  be  well  done.  "The  harvest  truly  is 
great  but  the  labourers  "  —  the  skilled,  earnest,  and  sym- 
pathetic labourers  "are  few.  Pray  ye  therefore  the  Lord 
of  the  harvest,  that  he  may  send  forth"  more  of  such 
"labourers  into  his  harvest." 


LECTURE   XIV 

WOMEN   AND   UNIVERSITIES1 

A  notable  feature  in  the  reign  of  Queen  Victoria.  Opening  of  pro- 
fessions to  women.  Public  employments.  Higher  education. 
Women's  education  not  provided  by  ancient  endowments. 
Defoe's  protest.  Recent  reforms.  Why  so  slowly  effected. 
The  Schools'  Inquiry  Commission.  Ancient  endowments  made 
available  to  girls.  The  Universities'  Local  Examinations. 
Girls'  Public  Day  Schools.  Social  effects  of  this  movement. 
The  University  of  London.  Provincial  Colleges  of  University 
rank.  The  older  Universities.  Girton  and  Newnham.  Health 
of  students.  A  Women's  University.  The  true  intellectual 
requirements  of  women.     The  unused  resources  of  life. 

A  notable         It  is  one  of  the  most  noteworthy  facts  in  the  annals 
the l reitn"  °^  t^e  beneficent  and  memorable  reign  of  our  present 
of  Queen    Queen    that   in   it   there   has   been   an    unprecedented 
'    development    in    the   intellectual    influence  and  public 
usefulness  of  women.     There  is  peculiar  appropriateness 
in  the  circumstance  that  the  most  renowned  of  female 
Sovereigns  should  have  been  able  to  witness  this  deve- 
lopment and  to  associate  it,  in  a  very  special  sense,  with 
the  history  of  her  long  reign. 
Professions       There   are    several   aspects   under   which  this  social 

1°'  revolution  —  for  it  is  little  short  of  a  revolution  —  may  be 

women.  J 

1  Reprinted,  with  additions,  from  the  Contemporary  Review. 
394 


Professional  employments  for  women       395 

viewed.  Much  has  been  done  to  open  out  new  industrial 
careers  which  were  heretofore  closed  to  women.  In 
the  medical  and  literary  professions,  in  engraving  and 
decorative  art,  in  clerkships  in  the  Post  Office  and  other 
departments  of  the  public  service,  at  the  Royal  Academy, 
as  book-keepers,  journalists,  type-  and  shorthand-writers, 
secretaries,  as  skilled  hospital  nurses,  and  in  other 
ways,  women  have  of  late  been  admitted  to  honour- 
able and  comparatively  lucrative  employment.  Fifty 
years  ago,  almost  the  only  resource  open  to  a  girl 
who  was  above  the  rank  of  domestic  servant,  and  who 
desired  to  earn  her  own  living,  was  the  profession  of 
teaching.  That  profession  accordingly  became  over- 
stocked with  practitioners,  many  of  whom  had  received 
no  adequate  preparation,  and  had  evinced  no  aptitude 
for  the  work ;  but  relied  mainly  on  their  manners,  and 
their  '  genteel '  connexions  to  justify  them  in  opening  a 
'  ladies'  seminary '  and  in  soliciting  the  confidence  of 
parents.  Happily  the  ranks  of  the  teacher's  profession 
are  being  gradually  cleared  of  these  encumbrances,  partly 
in  consequence  of  the  higher  estimate  which  the  public 
has  at  last  learned  to  form  of  the  necessary  qualifications 
of  a  teacher,  but  mainly  in  consequence  of  the  enlarged 
opportunities  for  interesting  and  appropriate  employment 
which  are  now  offered  to  women  in  other  directions. 

Incidentally  this  enlargement  of  the  range  of  profes- 
sional and  industrial  employment  has  had  a  valuable 
reflex  effect  on  the  social  position  as  well  as  the  self- 
respect  and  happiness  of  women  themselves.  When 
such  employments  were  unattainable,  or  much  restricted 
in  number,  women  were  sometimes  tempted  into  undesir- 
able marriages,  merely  in  order  to  secure  a  home  and 
maintenance.  There  is  now  less  danger  in  this  direction, 
and  many  women,  though  they  have  no  desire  for  a  life 


396  Women  and  Universities 

of  independence,  are  nevertheless  enabled,  now  that  they 
have  access  to  the  means  of  earning  a  livelihood,  to 
pause  before  making  the  most  momentous  decision  of 
their  lives,  and  to  enquire  more  carefully  into  the  char- 
acter and  qualities  of  a  suitor  as  well  as  his  means  and 
social  position.  Anything  which  makes  it  more  difficult 
for  an  idle  or  vicious  man  to  secure  the  hand  of  a  good 
woman  will  have  a  useful  influence  on  the  standard  both 
of  morality  and  intelligence  among  men  themselves. 
Public  cm-  Thg  sociai  and  intellectual  position  of  women  has  in 
'  the  nineteenth  century  been  greatly  modified  by  the  large 
share  of  public  and  quasi-public  duties  which  they  have 
been  enabled  to  undertake.  As  trustees  of  endowed 
schools,  as  members  of  School  Boards,  as  guardians  of 
the  poor,  as  pioneers  and  helpers  in  the  organization  of 
charity,  ladies  are  now  to  be  found  in  all  parts  of  England 
rendering  to  the  public  priceless  services  which  once 
would  neither  have  been  invoked  nor  appreciated,  and 
which  Fanny  Burney  or  Jane  Austen  would  have  regarded 
as  inappropriate,  if  not  undignified. 

It  is  not  easy,  however,  to  escape  from  the  trammels 
of  long-established  tradition,  even  when  reason  and 
experience  call  clearly  for  change.  In  many  institutions, 
a  compromise  has  been  adopted  by  which  a  small  com- 
mittee of  ladies  has  been  formed,  to  sit  separately  from 
the  rest  of  the  trustees  and  to  make  representations  for 
the  consideration  of  the  real  governing  body  composed 
of  men  only.  Those  representations  are,  however,  often 
entirely  ignored.  A  far  better  course  is  adopted  when 
two  or  three  women  are  elected  to  serve  as  members  of 
the  governing  body  itself,  and  are  invested  with  the  same 
full  responsibility  for  the  policy  and  working  of  the  insti- 
tution, as  that  shared  by  the  other  Governors.  The 
careful  restriction  in  the  duties  of  one  section  of  a  body 


Means  of  advanced  education  397 

of    trustees    to   a   particular    department    of    its   work, 

deprives  the  sectional  members  of  all  real  responsibility 

not   only  for   their  own  special  work  but  also   for  the 

efficiency  of  the  institution  as  a  whole. 

But  a  third  and  most  important  change  —  that  in  fact  Means  of 

which  has  served  to  make  the  other  two  to  which  I  have  a'va"fe 

education. 

referred  possible  —  is  to  be  seen  in  the  increased  attention 
paid  to  the  education  of  girls  and  women,  and  in  the 
enlarged  facilities  which  have,  of  late,  been  open  for 
placing  superior  educational  advantages  within  their  reach. 
From  the  time  of  Lady  Jane  Grey  down  to  Mrs  Somer- 
ville  and  Miss  Anna  Swanwick,  numerous  examples  of 
erudite  and  accomplished  women  are  to  be  found,  bright- 
ening and  variegating  the  history  of  learning  in  England. 
But  the  instances  have  been  comparatively  rare ;  and 
when  they  have  occurred  they  have  been  traceable  to  the 
exceptional  opportunities  enjoyed,  here  and  there  in  a 
scholarly  home,  or  in  a  literary  coterie,  and  not  to  any  very 
general  recognition  of  the  need  of  a  sound  education  for 
women.  Mrs  Malaprop,  who  did  not  wish  a  daughter  of 
hers  to  be  a  "  progeny  of  learning,"  and  whose  artless  de- 
scription of  a  gentlewoman's  curriculum,  while  it  excluded 
Greek,  Hebrew,  Mathematics,  and  the  "  like  inflamma- 
tory branches  of  learning  "  extended  as  far  as  to  a  "  super- 
cilious knowledge  of  accounts,"  to  some  "  knowledge  of 
the  contagious  countries,"  and  above  all  to  "orthodoxy," 
was  not  a  bad  representative  of  those  who  in  the 
eighteenth  century  dominated  the  public  opinion  and  set 
up  the  educational  ideal  in  relation  to  girls.  And  this 
ideal,  when  attained,  was  sought  by  the  help  of  domestic 
governesses,  or  in  small  sheltered  boarding  schools,  ex- 
clusively composed  of  scholars  of  one  social  class,  and  not 
by  means  of  any  provision  of  a  larger  and  freer  kind,  cor- 
responding in  character  to  that  provided  for  boys  and  men. 


398  Women  and  Universities 

Women's         Indeed,  it  cannot  be  safely  said  that  an  advanced 
education  .       .         ,  .         r  .      , 

not  pro-     or  academic  education  for  women  was  ever  recognized 

ruled  by  as  a  legitimate  object  of  any  of  our  ancient  scholastic 
",'ndow-  foundations.  There  is  no  reason  to  suppose  that  at  any 
menu  in  time  the  English  Universities  were  attended  by  women. 
'"&a>  ■  Tjmi  traditions  of  female  professors  and  pupils  exist  in 
connection  with  the  Universities  of  Bologna  and  Padua, 
and  in  one  or  two  of  the  Spanish  Universities,  but 
nothing  analogous  to  these  traditions  is  to  be  found  in 
the  records  of  Oxford  and  Cambridge.  The  fifteenth 
and  sixteenth  centuries,  as  has  been  shewn,  witnessed 
the  foundation  in  England  of  most  of  the  great  Grammar 
Schools.1  The  revival  of  learning  and  the  dissolution  of 
the  ancient  monasteries  occurred  almost  simultaneously, 
the  first  served  to  create  a  new  desire  for  classical  educa- 
tion, and  the  second  to  provide  the  means  for  endowing 
it.  But  whether  the  great  endowed  schools  were  enriched 
by  the  spoils  of  older  foundations,  or  provided  by  private 
munificence,  their  design  in  almost  every  case  was  to 
give  to  boys  such  instruction  in  Latin  and  Greek  as  would 
enable  them  to  proceed  to  the  Universities.  The  classical 
culture  which  was  so  generously  provided  by  the  first 
founders  of  the  old  Grammar  Schools  was  offered  to  boys 
only.  Their  sisters  were  to  have  no  share  in  it.  They 
were  not  meant  to  proceed  to  a  University,  or  to  enter 
the  learned  professions  or  any  public  employment.2 
Accordingly  they  were  not  to  be  encouraged  to  pursue 
the  studies  which  were  characteristic  of  a  liberal  educa- 
tion. They  might,  if  their  parents  chose,  obtain  instruc- 
tion privately  at  home ;  but  of  public  provision,  either 
in  endowed  schools  or  ecclesiastical  foundations,  there 
was  none.  In  the  long  list  of  charitable  endowments  for 
the  purpose  of  secondary  education  we  can  scarcely  find 

1  Ante,  p.  192.  2  Ibid.  p.  241. 


Defoe  s  protest  399 

one  which  deliberately  contemplated  the  admission  of 
girls  to  the  foundation,  or  which  recognized  any  claim  on 
their  part  to  the  letters  and  good  learning  so  bountifully 
provided  for  their  brothers. 

Some  of  the  most  valuable  of  these  endowments  owe 
their  origin  to  the  munificence  of  women.  The  bequest 
of  Lady  Betty  Hastings,  for  instance,  which  provided  a 
system  of  exhibitions  for  the  encouragement  in  learning 
of  the  scholars  in  twelve  of  the  northern  schools,  and 
which  provided  a  singularly  elastic  and  skilfully  devised 
scheme  of  competitive  examination,  was  carefully  re- 
stricted to  the  boys  of  the  three  counties  of  Yorkshire, 
Cumberland,  and  Westmoreland.  It  never  occurred  to 
this  wise  and  generous  lady  that  children  of  her  own  sex 
might  possibly  be  glad  to  avail  themselves  of  a  superior 
education,  and  be  able  to  make  a  good  use  of  it.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  the  Charity  Schools  were  from  the 
first  open  to  boys  and  girls  alike.  Girls  might  be  wanted 
as  domestic  servants,  and  they  were  therefore  permitted 
to  learn  the  horn-book  and  the  Catechism,  to  be  dressed 
in  the  picturesque  livery  of  the  Charitable  Grinders,  and 
to  sing  hymns  in  the  gallery  at  church.  In  so  far  as  the 
education  provided  was  that  suited  to  domestics,  and  to 
the  humbler  offices  of  life,  the  daughters  of  the  labouring 
class  were  permitted  to  share  it.  But  nothing  higher  or 
more  ambitious  seems  to  have  been  ever  contemplated 
by  the  founders  of  educational  endowments. 

Nor  can  I  find  that  this  anomaly  touched  the  con-  Defoe's 
science  of  any  part  of  the  community,  or  attracted  any  Proiesi- 
public    remonstrance,   or    even    attention.     One  solitary 
voice  —  that  of  Daniel  Defoe  —  was  raised  in  1697  in  his 
pamphlet  on  the  Education  of  Women. 

"  I  have  often  thought  it  one  of  the  most  barbarous  customs  in 
the  world,"  he  says,  "  considering  us  a   civilized  and  a  Christian 


400  Women  and  Universities 

country  that  we  deny  the  advantages  of  learning  to  women.  Their 
youth  is  spent  to  teach  them  to  stitch  and  sew  and  to  make  baubles. 
They  are  taught  to  read,  indeed,  and  perhaps  to  write  their  names 
or  so,  and  that  is  the  height  of  women's  education.  And  I  would 
but  ask  any  who  slight  the  sex  for  their  understanding,  what  is  a 
man  good  for  that  is  taught  no  more  ?  " 

He  goes  on  to  speak  strongly  of  the  natural  capacity 
of  women,  and  of  the  rich  return  which  would  be  reaped 
for  any  pains  taken  with  their  mental  cultivation. 

"  They  should  be  taught,"  he  says, "  all  sorts  of  breeding  suitable 
to  their  age  and  quality."  Especially  he  recommends  the  teaching 
of  history,  and  wishes  girls  "  so  to  read  as  to  make  them  understand 
the  world  and  judge  of  things  when  they  hear  of  them.  To  such 
whose  genius  would  lead  them  to  it,  I  would  deny  no  sort  of  learn- 
ing ;  but  the  chief  thing  in  general  is  to  cultivate  the  understandings 
of  the  sex  that  they  may  be  capable  of  all  sorts  of  conversation  ;  that 
their  parts  and  judgments  being  improved  they  may  be  as  profitable 
in  their  conversation  as  they  are  pleasant." 

It  need  not  be  added   that   Defoe   spoke  to  deaf 
ears,  and  that  at  least  a  century  and  a  half  had  to  elapse 
before  his  views  met  with  any  general  acceptance  or 
legislative  recognition. 
Recent  Thus  when  in  1867  the  Schools  Inquiry  Commission 

reforms.  ma(je  jtg  eiaborate  investigation  into  the  condition  of 
Secondary  Education  in  England ;  and,  in  particular, 
into  the  history  and  condition  of  educational  endowments, 
that  body  was  fain  to  report  that  while  in  many  of  the 
later  endowed  schools  which  offered  to  the  children  of 
the  labouring  poor  an  education  supposed  to  be  suited 
to  their  condition 1  scholars  of  both  sexes  were  to  be 
found,  there  was  hardly  a  single  endowed  school  in 
England  which  had  been  deliberately  designed  to  offer 
even  the  rudiments  of  a  liberal  education  to  the  sisters  of 
the  boys  in  Grammar  Schools.     As  a  fact  no  case  could 

1  Ante,  p.  192. 


Reform  slowly  effected  401 

be  cited  in  which  at  the  time  of  the  inquiry  an  endowed 
foundation  was  actually  affording  to  girls  an  education  of 
a  character  higher  than  elementary.  Christ's  Hospital, 
the  richest  educational  charity  in  the  country,  was  indeed 
reported  as  one  on  which  girls  had  an  ancient  and  un- 
doubted claim  ;  but  the  share  of  revenue  allotted  to  them 
had  been  in  the  opinion  of  the  Commissioners,  "  unfairly 
reduced  to  a  minimum."  This  is,  to  say  the  least,  a  very 
temperate  and  guarded  inference  from  the  simple  fact  that 
whereas  there  were  then  on  the  foundation  1,192  boys,  of 
whom  many  were  provided  with  an  education  adapted  to 
prepare  them  for  the  Universities,  there  were  eighteen  girls 
at  the  Hertford  establishment,  all  of  whom  were  receiving 
the  training  and  education  suited  to  domestic  servants. 

The  truth  is  that  so  long  as  the  founders  of  schools  Why  so 
regarded  it  as  the  main  purpose  of  education  to  prepare  ™; wy ' 
its  possessor  for  a  business  or  profession,  it  was  not 
unreasonable  that  provision  should  be  made  for  boys 
only.  Girls  were  excluded  from  the  opportunities  of 
higher  education,  not  by  any  conscious  act  of  injustice, 
but  simply  per  incuriam,  and  because  during  many  ages 
the  need  of  advanced  education  was  not  present  to  the 
minds  of  English  parents  or  the  public.  And  if  this  great 
inequality  is  now  to  be  redressed,  recourse  must  not  be 
had  to  the  pious  founder  :  he  at  least  will  do  nothing  to 
help  us.  We  must  rely  on  other  and  more  modern  con- 
siderations and  experience.1  That  human  beings,  whether 
men  or  women,  come  into  the  world  not  only  to  get  a 
living  but  to  live ;  that  the  life  they  live  depends  largely 
on  what  they  know  and  care  about,  upon  the  breadth  of 
their  intellectual  sympathy,  upon  their  love  of  truth, 
upon  their  power  of  influencing  and  inspiring  other 
minds ;  and  that  for  these  reasons  mental  culture  stands 

1  Ante,  p.  241. 


sion 


402  Women  and  Universities 

in  just  as  close  relation  to  the  needs  of  a  woman's  career 
in  the  world  as  to  that  of  a  man — all  these  are  propositions 
which,  if  not  self-evident,  are  at  least  seen  in  a  clearer 
light  by  the  people  of  our  generation  than  by  their 
predecessors ;  and  it  is  on  those  who  have  arrived  at 
such  conclusions  that  there  lies  the  responsibility  of 
giving  effect  to  them. 
The  The  Schools  Inquiry  Commission  was  the  first  public 

Inquiry  D°dy  boldly  to  give  expression  to  these  and  the  like 
Co?nmis-  beliefs.  "  We  consider,"  says  the  Report,  "  that  in  any 
enactment  or  constitution  that  may  be  brought  into 
operation  on  this  question,  the  principle  of  the  full 
participation  of  girls  in  endowments  should  be  broadly 
laid  down."  And  they  proceed  to  recommend  in  detail 
many  plans  for  placing  the  means  of  a  generous  and 
scholarly  education  within  the  reach  of  girls. 

Those  who  would  understand  the  nature  of  the  pro- 
vision which  existed  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago  for  the 
education  of  women,  and  would  measure  the  remarkable 
progress  which  has  since  been  made,  would  do  well  to 
unearth  the  volume  containing  the  Report  of  the  Schools 
Inquiry  Commission,  published  in  1868,  and  to  read  in 
it  the  clear  and  striking  chapter  on  girls'  schools,  con- 
tributed to  the  Report  by  the  late  Lord  Lyttelton. 
That  report,  with  its  melancholy  record  of  waste  and 
negligence,  of  the  paralysis  with  which  many  ancient 
foundations  had  been  smitten,  and  of  the  inadequate 
and  ill-organized  provision  which  existed  for  intermediate 
and  higher  education  in  England,  produced  a  profound 
impression  on  the  public;  and  when  in  1869  it  became 
the  duty  of  Mr  Forster,  as  Vice-President  of  the  Coun- 
cil, to  introduce  the  Endowed  Schools  Act,  he  found 
no  difficulty  in  persuading  Parliament  to  assent  to  the 
introduction  into  that  statute  of  the  well-known  twelfth 


Endowments  made  available  for  girls       403 

section.  "  In  framing  schemes  under  this  Act,  provision 
shall  be  made,  as  far  as  conveniently  may  be,  for  extending 
to  girls  the  benefits  of  endowments." 

The  Commissioners  to  whom  the  administration  ^{Ancient 
the  Act  has  been  entrusted  have  sought  with  considerable^^" 
success,  though  not  with  so  great  success  as  had  been  made 
generally  anticipated,  to  give  effect  to  this  enactment.  aZ^Jr/s 
Local  difficulties  have,  in  many  cases,  proved  formidable  ; 
the  number  of  scholastic  foundations  whose  resources 
admitted  of  division  without  seriously  impairing  their 
usefulness  was  not  found  to  be  large ;  but  the  lists 
presented  by  the  Commissioners  from  year  to  year  and 
in  the  Report  of  the  Select  Committee  of  the  House  of 
Commons  on  the  Endowed  Schools  Act,  shew  that 
substantial  work  has  been  done.  In  London  and  its 
neighbourhood  alone  twenty-five  endowed  foundations 
have  become  available  for  girls'  schools  in  which  higher 
than  elementary  instruction  is  provided ;  and  the  last 
Report  shews  that  upwards  of  a  hundred  such  schools 
have  been  established  by  means  of  the  funds  derived 
from  old  grammar-school  endowments  in  different  parts 
of  the  country.  The  report  shews  also  that  in  many  cases 
a  liberal  apportionment  of  the  total  revenue  of  many 
rich  foundations  has  been  made  for  this  purpose.  At 
Bedford,  Birmingham,  Exeter,  Bristol,  and  Bradford,  sec- 
ondary and  higher  schools  have  been  founded.  Schemes 
for  the  greater  foundations,  such  as  Christ's  Hospital  and 
St.  Paul's,  have  all  included  in  their  scope,  provision, 
either  present  or  prospective,  for  the  education  of  girls. 
And  in  many  places  in  which  the  resources  were  in- 
sufficient for  the  actual  establishment  of  new  schools, 
the  funds  set  aside  for  scholarships  and  exhibitions  have 
been  so  distributed  as  to  give  substantial  advantages  in 
fair  proportion  to  scholars  of  both  sexes. 


404  Women  and  Universities 

The  Uiii-  Concurrently  with  these  reforms,  all  of  which  required 
Local-  legal  sanction,  other  movements  on  the  part  of  public  or 
Examina-  quasi-public  bodies  have  tended  in  the  same  direction. 
In  1S63,  a  voluntary  committee  was  formed,  with  a  view 
to  secure  for  girls'  schools  a  share  in  the  advantages 
which  the  then  new  system  of  Local  Examinations  was 
proposing  to  confer  on  secondary  schools  for  boys.  The 
University  of  Cambridge  proceeded  cautiously  and  ten- 
tatively, and  at  first  simply  gave  to  this  committee 
permission  to  conduct  a  trial  examination  of  the  pupils 
in  girls'  schools  with  the  same  papers  which  had  been 
used  for  boys.  Two  years  afterwards,  the  success  of 
this  experiment  was  sufficiently  assured  to  justify  the 
authorities  of  the  University  in  opening  its  Junior  and 
Senior  local  examinations  on  equal  terms  to  scholars  of 
both  sexes.  Oxford  soon  followed,  and  during  twenty- 
five  years  the  number  of  school-girls  who  have  presented 
themselves  at  the  examinations  has  steadily  increased. 
Since  the  year  1870,  in  which  the  Oxford  Local  Examina- 
tions were  first  thrown  open  to  girls,  the  results  have 
continued  to  justify  the  experiment,  and  in  1899  there 
were  1,293  Senior  candidates,  of  whom  867  passed  and 
1,885  Juniors,  of  whom  1,386  passed.  The  total  number 
of  girls  within  the  twenty  years  has  been  34,735,  of 
whom  24,756  have  satisfied  the  examiners.  At  Cam- 
bridge still  larger  results  are  recorded,  the  number  during 
the  same  period  having  been  29,078  Seniors  and  44,708 
Junior  candidates,  the  proportion  of  those  who  succeeded 
in  the  examination  varying  from  70  to  80  per  cent. 

But  the  influence  of  this  action  of  the  two  Universities 
on  secondary  education  cannot  be  accurately  measured 
by  the  mere  enumeration  of  statistics  shewing  how  many 
hundred  pupils  annually  satisfy  the  examiners  and  obtain 
distinction.      The   local    examinations   have   set    before 


Girls'  Public  Day  Schools  405 


the  conductors  of  girls'  schools  a  higher  standard  of  work 
than  that  which  was  recognized  before.  They  have  helped 
pupils  to  that  most  valuable  of  all  knowledge  —  self- 
knowledge,  and  a  truer  estimate  of  their  own  standing 
and  acquirements.  Above  all  they  have  had  a  beneficent 
influence  on  parents,  many  of  whom  were  slow  to  recog- 
nize the  value  of  a  truly  liberal  education  for  their 
daughters.  Swift's  cynical  remark,  "the  reason  why  so 
many  marriages  are  unhappy  is  because  young  ladies 
spend  their  time  in  making  nets,  not  in  making  cages," 
has  not  even  yet  wholly  lost  its  significance. 

The  establishment  of  the  Girls'  Public  Day  School  Girls' 
Company  in  1874,  mainly  through  the  energetic  efforts  £  u 
of  Mrs  William  Grey,  her  sister  Miss  Shirreff,  and  M\ss  Sc/100/s. 
Mary  Gurney,  has  perhaps  had  a  larger  influence  on  the 
improvement  of  feminine  education  than  any  single  mea- 
sure. The  lines  of  its  action  had  been  traced  and  much 
of  the  pioneer  work  had  been  done  by  the  skilful  and 
successful  exertions  of  Miss  Beale  of  Cheltenham  and  the 
late  Miss  Buss  of  the  North  London  Collegiate  School. 
Following  the  precedents  thus  set,  the  Company  has 
familiarized  parents  with  institutions  of  a  comparatively 
new  type,  each  under  the  administration  of  a  responsible 
governing  body,  whose  duty  it  is  to  select  skilled  teachers, 
and  to  remove  any  who  are  found  to  be  inefficient. 
These  schools  are  large  enough  to  admit  of  proper 
classification,  and  as  their  educational  aim  has  always 
been  high  and  generous,  they  have  attained  remarkable 
success.  The  Company  has  now  34  flourishing  schools 
of  its  own,  with  upwards  of  7,000  pupils.  These  figures, 
however,  do  not  represent  the  whole  or  nearly  the  whole 
of  the  work  which  it  has  done.  For  in  numerous  places 
independent  bodies  of  local  governors  have  been  formed 
for  the  establishment  of  girls'  high  schools  of  the  same 
character,    though    not    actually    incorporated    with    the 


J\ 


406  Women  and  Universities 

Company ;  and  at  present  there  is  hardly  an  important 
town  in  England  which  has  not  its  Public  Day  School  for 
Girls.  The  whole  enterprise  has  greatly  helped  to  raise 
the  standard  of  instruction,  to  encourage  the  due  training 
and  preparation  of  highly  qualified  teachers,  and  to 
remove  from  girls'  education  the  reproach  which  the 
Schools  Inquiry  Commission  of  1S67  declared  to  be 
well  founded  :  "  Want  of  thoroughness  and  foundation, 
want  of  system,  slovenliness,  and  showy  superficiality, 
inattention  to  rudiments,  undue  time  given  to  accom- 
plishments, and  those  not  taught  intelligently  or  in  any 
scientific  manner,  and  a  complete  absence  of  proper 
organization." 
Social  Incidentally,  too,  the  establishment  of  the  public  day 

£js  schools  has  been  attended   by  beneficent  social  conse- 

movement.  quences.  Until  these  schools  were  founded,  girls  whose 
parents  could  not  afford  to  employ  private  governesses 
were  generally  sent  to  schools  which  were  conducted  on 
a  small  scale,  and  which  called  themselves  "  educational 
homes,"  although,  to  say  the  truth,  places  of  instruction 
conducted  by  strangers  are  very  little  like  any  home  from 
which  a  pupil  could  come,  or  which  she  is  likely  ever 
to  enter.  The  average  British  matron  is  keenly  sensitive 
on  the  subject  of  caste  and  social  position.  She  objects 
strongly  to  any  association  of  her  girls  with  those  belonging 
to  a  lower  stratum  of  society,  although  she  has  no  objec- 
tion to  secure  for  them  a  place  in  a  school  frequented 
by  scholars  of  higher  rank  than  her  own.  Hence  the 
typical  school  thirty  or  forty  years  ago  was  an  exclusive 
"  seminary"  with  about  twenty  girls,  all  drawn  from  the 
same  social  class,  and  presided  over  by  a  gentlewoman, 
who,  whether  intellectually  qualified  or  not,  might  be 
safely  relied  on  for  attention  to  all  the  convenances  and 
proprieties  of  life.  The  teaching  in  such  schools  was 
either  narrow  and  uninspiring,  or  if  skilled  teachers  were 


The  University  of  London  407 

employed   was    exceedingly    costly.      Now,    the    wisest 

parents  are  beginning  to  discover  that,  if  they  exercise 

reasonable  care  about  the  associations   their  daughters 

form  out  of  school,  there  is  no  harm,  but  much  good,  to 

be  found  in  the  freer  life,  the  varied  intellectual  interests, 

the  larger  numbers  and  the  better  classification  of  a  good 

day  school.      In   this  way  much   foolish  prejudice  has 

been  removed  ;  children  in  different  ranks  have  learned 

to  respect  one  another,  and  to  help  one  another  ;  and 

the  sentiment  of  republican  equality,  the  discipline  of  a 

community  in  which   the   only  recognizable   distinctions 

are  those  founded  on  differences  of  character,  knowledge, 

and  ability,  has  been  found  to  play  as  useful  a  part  in  the 

education  of  girls  as  in  that  of  their  brothers  in  a  great 

public  school. 

In  close  connexion  with    this   movement,  the    steps  The 

taken  bv  the  University  of   London  may  deserve  some  University 
J  J  J  of  London. 

record  here.  In  1866,  the  Senate  resolved  to  establish 
some  special  examinations  for  women  ;  and  accordingly 
courses  of  instruction  were  framed,  and  special  regula- 
tions adopted  for  the  examination  of  women  in  those 
subjects  which,  at  that  period  of  our  educational  history, 
were  assumed  to  be  peculiarly  appropriate  to  the  sex. 
Modern  languages,  history,  literature,  and  certain  branches 
of  science  were  made  prominent  in  the  curriculum  in 
obedience  to  a  supposed  demand.  But  it  soon  became 
evident  that  this  was  not  what  the  best  schoolmistresses 
or  their  pupils  wanted.  With  unexpected  perversity,  the 
women  who  presented  themselves  for  examination  were 
found  to  be  seeking  distinction  in  the  ordinary  subjects 
of  a  liberal  education  in  classics,  logic,  mathematics,  and 
physical  science,  and  not  in  those  alternative  subjects 
which  had  been  offered  to  them  as  specially  feminine. 
The  women's  certificates  were   but  little  valued  by  the 


408  Women  and  Universities 

public,  or  coveted  by  the  students,  because,  rightly  or 
wrongly,  they  were  supposed  to  be  awarded  on  more 
lenient  terms  than  the  distinctions  accessible  to  men. 
Experience  led  to  the  belief  that  the  true  solution  of  the 
problem  could  only  be  found  by  the  simple  expedient  of 
throwing  open  all  the  examinations,  degrees,  honours,  and 
prizes  of  the  University  to  women  on  precisely  the  same 
conditions  as  to  men  ;  and  in  1878,  the  Senate,  with  the 
concurrence  of  Convocation,  obtained  a  charter  from  the 
Crown,  enabling  persons  of  both  sexes,  who  fulfilled  the 
necessary  requirements,  to  graduate  in  all  the  Faculties. 

In  June  1879,  at  the  first  Matriculation  opened  to 
women,  68  entered  and  5 1  passed,  of  whom  eleven  were 
placed  in  the  Honours  Division.  It  should  be  remem- 
bered that  the  average  age  of  the  women  was  rather 
higher  than  that  of  the  men,  and  that  at  first  only  a  few 
women,  who  had  either  unusual  ambition  or  had  enjoyed 
exceptional  advantages,  were  tempted  to  become  candi- 
dates for  University  Examinations.  Thus  the  proportion 
of  successful  women  at  the  next  Matriculation  was 
68-4  per  cent.,  but  as  time  has  gone  on  the  percentage  of 
passes  has  continuously  approached  that  of  the  men.  If 
the  results  up  to  1898  be  taken,  we  find  there  have  been 
59,275  entries  of  male  candidates,  of  whom  31,589  have 
passed,  and  9,599  entries  of  female  candidates,  of  whom 
5,185  passed,  i.e.  53-2  per  cent,  and  54  per  cent,  re- 
spectively, giving  a  small  difference  in  favour  of  women 
candidates. 

During  the  first  twenty  years  in  which  degrees  have 
thus  become  accessible,  women  have  become  candidates 
for  every  degree  the  University  has  to  offer  except  one  — 
the  Doctorate  of  Laws  ;  and  every  degree  to  which  they 
have  aspired  —  again  except  one,  the  Doctorate  of  Music 
—  has  been  obtained  by  some  woman  ;  5,185  have  passed 


Provincial  Colleges  409 

the  Matriculation  Examination,  1,383  the  Intermediate 
Examination  in  Arts,  861  have  proceeded  to  the  degree 
of  Bachelor  of  Arts,  63  to  the  higher  degree  of  M.A.  In 
the  Science  Faculty,  266  have  passed  the  Intermediate 
Examination,  and  145  have  obtained  the  degree  of  B.Sc. 
and  9  that  of  Doctor  of  Science.  In  addition  to  these 
120  women  have  passed  the  Intermediate  Examination 
in  Medicine,  74  have  become  Bachelors  of  Medicine, 
23  Bachelors  of  Surgery,  and  21  have  won  the  full  degree 
of  M.D.  Bedford  College,  London,  is  now  recognized  as 
a  constituent  college  of  the  newly  organized  University 
of  London.  It  receives  an  annual  subsidy  of  ^1,200 
from  the  Government.  It  numbers  180  female  students, 
and  has  achieved  very  remarkable  success  in  examina- 
tions. 

This   example   has   been   followed    by    many    other  Provincial 
academic  bodies  more  recently  constituted.    The  Durham  C°"?ges  °f 

J  University 

University,  with  which  the  great  College  of  Science  mrank. 
Newcastle  is  connected,  has  made  special  provision  for 
the  admission  of  women  to  its  degrees  ;  the  University  of 
Wales,  and  the  Victoria  University  which  unites  into  one 
federation  the  flourishing  University  Colleges  at  Man- 
chester, Liverpool,  and  Leeds,  have  also  adopted  the  same 
liberal  provisions ;  and  the  proposed  new  Midland  Uni- 
versity, of  which  Birmingham  will  be  the  home,  and  with 
which  the  Colleges  at  Nottingham  and  others  will  probably 
be  incorporated,  also  proposes  to  open  its  degrees  freely 
and  on  equal  terms  to  candidates  of  both  sexes.  The 
great  provincial  colleges  which  have  of  late  sprung  up 
in  the  principal  industrial  towns,  and  are  distinctly  of  a 
University  type,  have  not  yet  all  received  Charters  of 
incorporation  empowering  them  to  confer  degrees  ;  but 
all  of  them  are  likely  to  be  federated  with  some  local 
University   ere    long,    and    meanwhile   women  are  fully 


4IO  Women  and  Universities 

eligible  for  admission  both  to  the  college  classes,  and 
to  such  distinctions  as  the  authorities  are  able  to  give. 
The  older  But  the  most  remarkable,  and  in  some  respects  the 
side's"  most  effective  encouragement  which  has  been  given  to 
the  cause  of  women's  academic  education,  is  that  which 
has  been  afforded  in  the  ancient  Universities  of  Oxford 
and  Cambridge.  The  authorities  of  a  modern  institution 
like  the  University  of  London  deserve  no  special  honour 
for  adapting  their  requirements  to  modern  wants,  because 
they  had,  in  fact,  little  or  no  difficulty  to  surmount.  The 
functions  of  that  institution  have  been  long  limited  to  the 
framing  of  schemes  of  study,  and  to  the  examination  of 
students.  No  conditions  of  residence,  no  ancient  usages 
or  statutes,  existed  to  obstruct  the  great  reform  of  1878, 
or  to  hinder  the  admission  of  women  to  full  membership 
of  the  University,  and  to  the  enjoyment  of  all  the  schol- 
arships, prizes,  and  distinctions  it  had  to  bestow.  But 
Oxford  and  Cambridge  have  behind  them  the  traditions 
of  many  centuries.  They  have  been  enriched  by  benefac- 
tions at  various  periods,  and  have  been  controlled  by  Royal 
Charters  and  by  the  terms  of  founders'  deeds.  These  facts 
ought  to  be  borne  in  mind,  whether,  on  the  one  hand, 
we  may  feel  disposed  to  complain  of  the  hesitating  and 
partial  measures  yet  adopted  by  the  older  Universities 
in  their  corporate  capacity,  or  whether  we  gratefully 
recognize,  as  we  have  good  reason  to  do,  the  generous 
aid  and  sympathy  which  leading  members  of  both  Uni- 
versities, and  especially  of  Cambridge,  have  personally 
extended  from  the  first  to  the  whole  movement. 
Girton  In   1869  the  first  attempt  was  made  to  establish  in 

"xc-onkam  England  a  College   of  University  rank  for  women.     A 
Colleges,     house  was  taken  at  Hitchin,  so  as  to  be  reasonably  acces- 
sible to  tutors  both  from  London  and  Cambridge,  and 
it  was  adapted  for  the  reception  of  six  students.    In  1869 


Girt 'on  and  Newnhant  411 

the  College  was  removed  to  a  new  building  erected 
for  the  purpose  at  Girton,  near  Cambridge.  Little  by 
little  the  premises  have  been  enlarged,  and  the  numbers 
have  increased,  so  that  there  are  now  upwards  of  100 
students.  Large  and  costly  additions  to  the  College 
buildings  are  now  in  progress  ;  and  there  will  shortly  be 
ample  room  for  200  resident  students. 

Newnham  College  under  its  first  Principal  Miss  A.  J. 
Clough  began  in  18  71,  when  a  house  was  taken  for  the 
accommodation  of  students  attending  those  lectures  which 
were  open  to  women  in  Cambridge.  It  expanded  rapidly, 
one  hall  being  opened  in  1875,  a  second  called  Sidgvvick 
Hall  in  1879,  and  a  third  called  Clough  Hall  in  1888. 
The  total  number  of  residents  in  these  three  halls  is  now 
167  ;  and  the  list  of  those  who  have  studied  at  Newn- 
ham, many  of  whom  have  proceeded  to  the  Tripos 
Examination,  includes  twelve  hundred  names. 

It  is,  of  course,  to  be  noted  that  these  Colleges  are 
not  the  product  of  any  action  on  the  part  of  the  Univer- 
sities, but  owe  their  existence  to  the  vigorous  initiative 
of  Miss  Emily  Davies,  Miss  Clough,  Lady  Stanley  of 
Alderley,  and  others,  with  the  help  of  some  resident 
members  of  the  University.  From  the  first  the  friends 
and  promoters  of  the  colleges  sought  recognition  by  the 
University,  and  admission  to  the  degree  examinations. 
But  during  the  early  years  it  was  only  by  a  friendly  and 
informal  arrangement  that  the  female  students  were 
permitted  to  take  the  same  papers  which  were  set  to 
ordinary  candidates,  the  results  being  communicated 
privately  to  the  governing  body  of  the  College.  Memo- 
rials were  presented  to  the  Senate  praying  that  the  privi- 
lege thus  granted  by  way  of  exceptional  favour  might  be 
formally  recognized  under  the  express  sanction  of  the 
University,   and   in    1880   a   Syndicate   was   formed    to 


412  Women  and  Universities 

report  on  the  whole  subject.  It  was  in  accordance  with 
the  report  of  that  Syndicate  that  the  present  regulations 
of  the  University  respecting  women  received  the  final 
approval  of  the  Senate  in  February  1881. 
Cambridge  These  regulations  concede  to  the  students  of  Girton 
r7zula-  l* 'and  Newnham,  and  of  any  similar  institution  which  may 
Hons.  hereafter  be  recognized  by  grace  of  the  Senate,  several 
substantial  privileges.  They  admit  women  who  may 
have  satisfied  the  ordinary  conditions  respecting  length 
of  residence  and  standing  which  members  of  the  Univer- 
sity are  required  to  fulfil,  to  the  Previous  Examination 
or  "  Little  Go,"  and  to  the  Tripos  Examinations,  and  they 
provide,  for  the  female  students  who  pass,  a  published 
list  under  the  authority  of  the  University,  shewing  the 
place  in  order  of  standing  and  merit  which  such  students 
would  have  occupied  if  they  had  been  men.  But  they 
do  not  permit  the  University  actually  to  confejr  upon 
women  the  time-honoured  degree  of  B.A.  or  M.A.,  and 
they  do  not  admit  them  to  the  standing  of  Members  of 
the  University,  and  so  to  a  share  in  its  government. 
These  privileges  could  not  be  granted  by  a  grace  of  the 
Senate,  nor  without  obtaining  new  powers  from  the  Crown. 
And  at  present,  notwithstanding  the  good  will  of  a  large 
body  of  the  resident  members,  the  grant  of  such  new 
powers  has  not  been  sought  by  the  University. 
Oxford.  The  University  of  Oxford  has  followed  the  example 

of  Cambridge  somewhat  tardily  and  tentatively  but 
with  valuable  and  encouraging  results.  Three  Colleges 
for  female  students  have  been  established  —  Somerville 
College,  Lady  Margaret  Hall  in  1879,  and  St.  Hugh's 
Hall  in  1886.  The  University  instituted  special  exami- 
nations for  women  in  1875  ;  and  having  passed  through 
similar  experience  to  that  already  described 1  in  London, 

1  Ante,  p.  407. 


Oxford  4 1 3 

determined  by  a  new  Statute  in  1S84  to  open  to  women 
the  ordinary  examination  of  the  University,  for  Moder- 
ations (Classics  and  Mathematics),  Natural  Science,  and 
Modern  History.  From  that  time  the  Special  Ex- 
aminations for  women  except  for  English  and  Modern 
Languages  were  abolished  and  the  students  were 
examined  in  the  same  papers  as  those  set  to  under- 
graduates. In  1886  women  were  admitted  to  Respon- 
sions ;  in  1S88  to  the  Honour  School  of  Litem  Ilitma- 
niores ;  in  1840  to  the  Honour  School  of  Jurisprudence 
and  the  final  Examination  for  Bachelor  of  Music  ;  in 
1893  to  the  Honour  Schools  of  Theology  and  Oriental 
Studies,  and  in  1894  to  the  remaining  examinations  for 
the  degree  of  B.A. 

On  the  successes  which  women  have  obtained  and  of 
the  use  they  have  made  of  the  privileges  accorded  to  them 
by  the  Universities,  it  would  be  superfluous  to  dwell. 
Every  year  since  1881  has  witnessed  an  increased  num- 
ber of  women  attaining  distinction  in  the  examinations. 
Girton  alone  has  received  725  residential  students,  of 
whom  468  have  obtained  Honours  according  to  the 
Cambridge  University  standard,  188  having  obtained 
Honours  in  the  Classical  Tripos,  127  in  Mathematics, 
and  the  rest  in  History,  Natural  Science,  or  Mediaeval 
and  Modern  Languages.  In  the  single  year  1899, 
Newnham  sent  up  65  students,  of  whom  12  obtained  First 
Class,  29  Second  Class,  and  20  Third  Class  Honours. 
At  Oxford,  ten  women  have  already  passed  in  the  First 
Class  at  Moderations  and  36  in  the  Second  Class : 
while  at  the  Final  Honour  School  56  have  passed  in  the 
First  Class  and  119  in  the  Second. 

The  opponents  of  the  proposal  to  admit  women  to 
degrees  often  aver  that  women  ought  to  be  content 
with  the  honorary  recognition  which  the  University  has 


414  Women  and  Universities 

conceded  ;  and  that  it  is  unreasonable  for  them  to  expect 
any  share  in  University  revenues  or  emoluments,  since 
the  testators  and  donors  who  have  enriched  the  Univer- 
sity from  time  to  time  deliberately  designed  their  gifts 
for  the  purpose  of  helping  the  education  of  men,  and 
never  contemplated  any  division  of  the  funds  between  men 
and  women.  But  to  this  it  may  be  replied,  that  neither 
did  these  benefactors  contemplate  the  recognition  by  the 
University  of  women's  colleges,  or  of  feminine  wranglers. 
The  steps  already  taken  by  the  University  constitute  as 
complete  a  departure  both  from  the  letter  and  the  spirit 
of  ancient  deeds  and  ordinances  as  would  be  effected  by 
a  readjustment  of  University  revenues.  Moreover,  the 
twelfth  section  of  the  Endowed  Schools  Act,  to  which 
reference  has  already  been  made  here,  constitutes  an 
important  precedent ;  for  it  expresses  clearly  the  will  of 
the  Legislature  in  reference  to  the  future  appropriation 
of  some  share  of  educational  revenues,  whatever  was 
their  original  intention,  to  the  instruction  of  girls.  Those 
who  have  the  greatest  reverence  for  the  "  pious  founder" 
will  be  the  last  to  doubt  that  if  he  were  as  wise  and 
benevolent  as  we  like  to  consider  him,  he  would  probably, 
had  he  lived  in  our  time,  have  shown  as  enlightened  a 
regard  to  the  wants  and  special  circumstances  of  our  age, 
as  he  exercised  in  reference  to  the  educational  require- 
ments of  his  own.  In  his  absence  we  are  entitled  to 
conjecture  that  he  would  not  have  disapproved,  but 
would  probably  have  welcomed,  any  modification  in 
the  conditions  of  his  gift  which  would  have  adapted 
it  more  completely  to  the  changed  circumstances 
and  new  intellectual  interests  of  the  present  gene- 
ration. 
Health  Many  anxious  misgivings   were   at   first   entertained 

students      even   by    those  who    had  the   strongest  interest    in  the 


Health  of  Students  415 


academic  education  of  women,  in  regard  to  its  possible 
effect  on  the  health  and  physical  vigour  of  the  students. 
It  was  feared  that  the  opening  of  new  facilities  for  study 
and  intellectual  improvement  would  result  in  the  crea- 
tion of  a  new  race  of  puny,  sedentary,  and  unfeminine 
students,  would  destroy  the  grace  and  charm  of  social  life, 
and  would  disqualify  women  for  their  true  vocation,  the 
nurture  of  the  coming  race,  and  the  governance  of  well- 
ordered,  healthy,  and  happy  homes.     All  these  predic- 
tions  have    been    emphatically    falsified    by  experience. 
The  really  fatal  enemy  to  health  among  young  women 
is  the  aimless,  idle,   frivolous  life   into  which,   for  want 
of  better  employment,  they  are  so  often  tempted  to  drift. 
Intellectual  pursuits,  when  duly  co-ordinated  with  other 
forms  of  activity,  are  attested  by  all  the  best  medical 
authorities  to  be  eminently  conducive  to  health.     Such 
records  as  exist  in  regard  to  the    strength  and  general 
capacity  of  the  students,  to  their  marriages,  and  to  the 
usefulness  of  their  subsequent  careers,  are  curiously  con- 
tradictory of  the  dismal  anticipations  which  were  at  first 
expressed  on  this  subject.     The  period  over  which  statis- 
tical data  on  this  point  extend  is  at  present  short ;  and 
it  would  be  premature  to  dogmatize  confidently  on  the 
subject.      But  those  who  would  learn  what  experience, 
so  far  as  it  has  gone,  has  to  teach  us,  would  do  well  to 
consult  the  weighty  testimony  collected  by  the  late  Mrs 
Emily  Pfeiffer  from  medical  and  educational  authorities 
in  her  interesting  volume  entitled,  "  Women  and  Work," 
or  the  still  more  striking  facts  and  figures  which   have 
been  collated  by  Mrs  Henry  Sidgvvick,  in  her  pamphlet, 
entitled,  "  Health  Statistics  of  Women  Students  of  Cam- 
bridge and   Oxford,   and   of  their   sisters."      It  will    be 
plain  to  all  who  will  study  this  evidence,  that  there  is  no 
antagonism   between   serious   study  and   a  healthy  and 


41 6  Women  and  Universities 

joyous  life;  and  that  the  widening  of  women's  intellectual 
interests  is  more  likely  to  add  to  the  charm  and  grace 
and  happiness  of  the  home  than  to  diminish  it. 
A  It   has   been   publicly   urged   by   some    persons   of 

University,  influence  that  the  desire  of  women  for  academic  privi- 
leges would  best  be  satisfied  by  the  creation  of  a  separate 
Women's  University  with  which  the  various  Colleges  for 
women  might  be  federated.  Eut  this  would  be  a  very 
unsatisfactory  solution  of  the  problem,  and  would  cer- 
tainly prove  to  be  unwelcome  to  women  themselves. 
Degrees  conferred  by  a  feminine  University  upon  women 
only,  would  be  universally  regarded  as  inferior  in  value 
to  others.  In  so  far  as  the  standard  of  attainment  was 
concerned,  it  would  be  difficult  to  persuade  the  public 
that  there  was  no  exceptional  leniency  and  lowering  of 
the  standard  to  meet  the  students'  needs.  And  in  so  far 
as  the  degrees  depended  on  a  different  curriculum  or 
a  specially  devised  selection  of  subjects,  the  system 
would  be  based  on  a  wholly  unverified  hypothesis. 

For  one  truth  has  been  brought  into  clear  light  by 
the  history  of  educational  development  in  England 
during  the  last  thirty  years.  It  is  that  in  our  present 
state  of  knowledge  and  experience  all  attempts  to  dif- 
ferentiate the  studies  and  the  intellectual  careers  of  men 
and  women  are  premature  and  probably  futile.  Educa- 
tion is  essentially  an  inductive  science,  a  science  of 
experiment  and  observation.  A  priori  theories  are  as 
much  out  of  place  here  as  in  chemistry  or  astronomy. 
What  knowledge  will  prove  of  most  worth  to  women, 
what  they  will  value  most,  what  they  will  best  be  able  to 
turn  to  account,  and  what  is  best  suited  to  their  own 
intellectual  and  spiritual  needs,  we  do  not  know,  and 
cannot  yet  safely  judge.  Neither  the  philosophers  nor 
the  practical  teachers  have  yet  been  able  to  formulate  a 


The  intellectual  claims  of  wonieil  417 

coherent  scheme  of  doctrine  on  these  points.  The  ten- 
tative and  empirical  efforts  of  those  who  have  tried  their 
hands  at  framing  a  course  of  study  exclusively  adapted 
to  women  have  all  proved  failures.  As  we  have  seen, 
the  special  women's  examination  of  the  University  of 
London  was  not  greatly  valued,  and  was  soon  abandoned. 
The  University  of  St  Andrews,  which  has  invented  a 
special  distinction  —  that  of  LL.A.,  for  female  candidates 
only  —  would  have  proved  more  generally  useful,  and 
certainly  more  attractive,  if  it  had  simply  offered  to 
candidates  of  both  sexes  examinations  of  the  same 
academic  value  and  under  the  same  conditions. 

It  would  of  course  be  rash  to  affirm  that  there  are  no  The  true 
differences  in  the  moral  and  mental  endowment  of  men  intellectual 

reqiare- 

and  women  which  ought  to  exercise  an  influence  on  our  ments  of 
methods  of  education.  In  some  future  age,  it  veaywomen' 
become  possible  to  map  out  the  whole  field  of  human 
knowledge,  and  to  say  what  part  of  it  should  be  cultivated 
by  one  sex,  and  what  part  by  the  other.  But  at  present 
the  materials  for  a  decision  do  not  exist,  and  any  assump- 
tion that  we  are  in  a  position  to  decide  will  serve  only 
to  make  the  future  solution  of  the  problem  in  a  wise  and 
satisfactory  way  more  difficult.  Meanwhile,  women  have 
a  right  to  say  to  all  in  authority — "Make  your  own 
schemes  of  instruction  and  your  tests  of  scholarship  for 
men  as  perfect  as  you  can.  Devise  as  many  new  and 
effective  forms  of  mental  discipline,  and  courses  of 
instruction,  as  you  think  can  be  wisely  offered  to  men 
of  various  aptitudes  and  careers;  and  then  permit  us,  if 
we  fulfil  the  same  preliminary  conditions,  to  exercise  the 
same  choice,  and  to  avail  ourselves  of  just  so  much  of 
your  system  as  we  feel  will  be  helpful  to  us.  We  do  not 
want  your  ideal  of  a  liberal  education  to  be  lowered  or 
modified  to  suit  us.     But  we  want  to  know  how  far  our 

2E 


41 8  Women  and  Universities 

own  aims  and  achievements  correspond  to  that  ideal, 
and  we  ask  leave  to  be  measured  by  the  recognized 
tests." 

Men  will  be  helped  in  giving  a  wise  and  generous 
response  to  this  appeal  in  just  the  proportion  in  which 
they  view  it  in  the  light  of  their  own  personal  history  and 
experience.  If  a  man  who  is  destined,  for  example,  to 
the  Law  or  the  Church  were  to  take  up  some  subject, 
such  as  Botany  or  Chemistry,  were  to  write  a  treatise  on 
Grimm'slaw,  oronthe  Fourth  dimension,  and  if  any  public 
authority  were  to  interpose  with  a  reminder  that  such 
studies  had  no  relation  to  the  proper  business  of  his  life, 
and  ought  therefore  not  to  be  undertaken,  he  would  regard 
such  interference  as  impertinent.  He  would  claim  to  be 
the  best  judge  of  his  own  interests.  In  like  manner  we 
are  not  entitled  to  affirm  respecting  any  one  department 
of  intellectual  effort  that  it  is  unsuited  to  the  nature  or 
to  the  probable  destiny  of  a  woman.  There  is  no  kind 
of  knowledge,  if  honestly  acquired,  which  may  not  be 
found  available  in  unexpected  ways,  for  the  enrichment 
and  the  adornment  of  life,  whether  the  life  be  that  of  a 
man  or  of  a  woman.  And  even  though  the  knowledge 
or  power  which  are  the  product  of  a  liberal  education 
may  seem  to  have  no  bearing  at  all  upon  the  special 
career  or  definite  duties  of  a  woman,  yet  if  it  be  felt 
by  its  possessor  to  make  life  more  full,  more  varied,  and 
more  interesting  and  better  worth  living,  no  other  justi- 
fication is  needed  for  placing  the  largest  opportunities 
within  her  reach.  She  has  a  right  to  exercise  a  free 
choice,  and  to  solve  the  problem  for  herself.  Neither 
the  professional  duty  of  a  man  nor  the  domestic  duty  of  a 
woman  occupies  the  whole  of  life.  Beyond  it  lies  a  wide 
region  of  activity,  of  honourable  ambition,  and  of  possible 
usefulness.     There  is  leisure  to  be  filled,  thought  and 


Unused  resources  419 


taste  to  be  nurtured,  influence  to  be  exerted,  and  good 
to  be  done.  And  it  is  the  business  of  man  and  woman 
alike  to  recognize  the  claims  of  this  larger  life,  and  to 
become  qualified  to  make  a  right  use  of  such  occasions 
as  fortune  may  offer  for  meeting  those  claims. 

There  is  no  more  familiar  fact  in  human  experience,  The 
nor  one  which  suggests  more  pathetic  reflection,  than  the  unused 

00  r  '  resource's 

large  store  of  unused  capacity  in  the  world.  Hundreds  of  life. 
of  men  and  thousands  of  women  carry  with  them  down 
to  their  graves  great  gifts  which  are  well  nigh  wasted, 
noble  aspirations  which  are  unrealized,  powers  of  use- 
fulness which  are  unsuspected  by  the  world  and  hardly 
known  to  their  possessors,  simply  because  the  right 
means  for  development  and  encouragement  have  not 
been  supplied,  and  because  opportunity  has  been  want- 
ing. It  cannot  be  doubted  that  in  the  intelligence  of 
many  women,  in  their  desire  for  truth,  in  their  high  aims, 
and  in  their  power  to  render  service  to  the  world  in 
which  they  live,  there  is  a  great  store  of  wealth,  which 
has  never  been  adequately  recognized  or  turned  to  pro- 
fitable account.  The  world  is  made  poorer  by  every 
restriction  —  whether  imposed  by  authority,  or  only 
conventionally  prescribed  by  our  social  usages — which 
hampers  the  free  choice  of  women  in  relation  to  their 
careers,  their  studies,  or  their  aims  in  life.  It  is  probable 
that  in  many  ways  yet  undiscovered  —  in  certain  depart- 
ments of  art,  of  scientific  research,  of  literature,  and  of 
philanthropic  work  —  the  contributions  of  women  to  the 
resources  of  the  world  will  prove  to  be  of  increasing 
value  to  mankind.  And  it  may  also  be  that  experience 
will  prove  certain  forms  of  mental  activity  to  be  unsuit- 
able. Nature,  we  may  be  sure,  may  be  safely  trusted  to 
take  care  of  her  own  laws.  The  special  duties  which  she 
has  assigned  to  one  half  of  the  human  race  will  always 


420  Women  and  Universities 


be  paramount;  but  of  the  duties  which  are  common  to 
the  whole  human  race,  we  do  not  know,  and  cannot  yet 
know,  how  large  a  share  women  may  be  able  to  under- 
take. It  is  probably  larger  than  the  wisest  of  our  con- 
temporaries anticipate.  If  there  be  natural  disabilities 
there  is  all  the  less  reason  for  imposing  artificial  disabil- 
ities. Hitherto  every  step  which  has  been  taken  in 
opening  out  new  forms  of  active  work  and  increased 
influence  to  women  has  been  a  clear  gain  to  society,  and 
has  added  much  to  the  happiness  of  women  themselves. 
It  is,  therefore,  not  merely  the  chivalry  nor  even  the 
sense  of  justice  but  also  the  enlightened  self-interest  of 
man,  that  are  concerned  in  the  solution  of  this  problem. 
It  is  not  his  duty  to  urge  women  in  the  direction  of 
employments  they  feel  to  be  uncongenial  to  them.  But 
it  is  his  duty  to  remove  as  far  as  possible  all  impediments 
and  disqualifications  which  yet  remain  in  restraint  of 
their  own  discretion,  to  leave  the  choice  of  careers  as 
open  to  them  as  it  is  to  himself,  and  to  wait  and  see 
what  comes  of  it.     Nothing  but  good  can  come  of  it. 


LECTURE   XV 

THE   FRENCH   LEAVING  CERTIFICATE1 

Certificat  if  Etudes  Primaires 

The  French  law  authorizing  the  award  of  leaving  certificates.  Its 
influence  on  the  attendance  of  scholars.  Constitution  of  the 
local  Commission.  The  standard  of  examination.  Les  Ecoles 
primaires  superieures.  The  examinations  not  competitive. 
Statistics.  Practical  results.  The  English  Problem.  Our 
Standards.  Individual  examination.  Its  uses  and  defects. 
Certificates  for  special  subjects.  Labour  certificates.  The 
Scotch  certificate  of  merit.  The  ideal  primary  school  course. 
Optional  subjects.  Oral  examination.  The  relation  between 
school  and  home. 

By  the  Law  of  March  28,  1882,  the  Minister  of  Public  The  law 
Instruction  in  France  was  empowered  and  directed  to^*  jJTf8" 
provide,  both  in  the  capital  and  in  the  provinces,  for  the  award  0/ 
award  of  certificates  to  scholars  at  the  end  of  the  primary Cc'  ^'"' 
school  course.     The  purpose  of  this  measure  was  partly 
to  attest  that  the  holder  had  received  a  fair  elementary 
education,  and  partly  to  facilitate  his  entrance  into  the 
ranks  of  labour. 

This  law  has  now  been  in  operation  for  sixteen  years, 
and  has  proved  to  be  highly  successful.  Its  influence  on 
the  social  and  industrial  condition  of  the  people,  on  the 
schools,   the   teachers,  and   the    parents,    has    been    so 

1  Reprinted  with  the  permission  of  the  Controller  of  Her 
Majesty's  Stationery  Office,  from  the  Special  Reports  on  Educational 
Subjects  issued  by  the  Education  Department,  1897. 

421 


422  The  French  Leaving  Certificate 

marked  that  it  well  deserves  the  serious  attention  of 
English  teachers  and  public  authorities,  and  of  all  others 
interested  in  the  expansion  and  improvement  of  our  own 
school  system. 

Former  In  a  Parliamentary  paper  which  I  was  instructed  to 

tie^subject  PrePare  in    1 89 1,  I  gave  the  following   account   of  the 
working  of  the  plan  up  to  that  date  :  — 

"  The  most  potent  instrument  in  maintaining  a  high 
standard  of  school  attendance  in  France  is  probably  the 
certificat  d' etudes  or  leaving  certificate,  for  it  applies  not 
merely  to  the  picked  scholars  who  prolong  their  educa- 
tion in  the  higher  grade  schools  but  to  the  rank  and  file 
of  French  children.  Any  boy  or  girl,  however  or  wherever 
educated,  can,  after  the  age  of  eleven,  be  presented  to 
the  local  authority,  and  can  claim,  after  passing  a  success- 
ful examination  in  elementary  subjects,  a  certificate  which 
will  exempt  him  from  the  legal  obligation  to  attend 
school  and  qualify  him  to  obtain  employment.  The 
plan  came  into  use  as  early  as  1836,  but  was  not 
legalized  until  the  statute  of  1882,  which  provided  in 
every  part  of  France  for  the  establishment  of  a  local 
tribunal  or  'jury'  empowered  to  examine  candidates  and 
to  grant  certificates.  In  that  year  the  number  of  boys 
presented  was  80,301,  of  whom  53,156  passed,  the  number 
of  girls  being  54,138,  of  whom  47,077  passed.  During 
the  last  decade  the  numbers  have  steadily  increased,  and 
in  1889  123,598  boys  and  97,012  girls  were  examined, 
of  whom  90,663  boys  and  74,458  girls  passed,  making  a 
total  of  165,211  children  between  the  ages  of  n  and  16, 
who  in  a  single  year  satisfied  the  requirements  of  the 
examiners  and  received  certificates.  A  similar  leaving 
examination  has  been  devised  for  the  end  of  the  course 
in   the   higher  grade  schools,  and  in    1889    there  were 


The  French  Law  423 


2,550  candidates  (1,652  boys  and  898  girls)  presented  at 
these  examinations,  of  whom  1,491  (960  boys  and  531 
girls)  were  successful.  In  Paris  alone  in  1888  the  total 
number  of  candidates  for  the  advanced  leaving  certificate 
was  5,873  boys  and  4,427  girls,  81  percent,  of  the  former 
and  78.3  of  the  latter  having  succeeded  in  the  examination. 
It  is  to  be  observed  that  the  proportion  of  successful 
scholars  from  the  private  or  unaided  schools  is  not  less 
favourable  than  that  of  pupils  from  the  public  schools. 

"  The  local  jury  or  board  empowered  by  law  to  issue 
these  leaving  certificates  is  variously  composed  of  official 
and  representative  personages ;  but  in  every  case  much 
of  the  practical  business  of  examination  is  done  by  the 
Government  inspector,  aided  by  the  head  teachers  of  the 
district,  provision  being  made  in  every  case  that  no 
teacher  shall  examine  his  own  pupils.  The  law  does  not 
permit  any  child  under  15  to  work  in  a  factory  or  work- 
shop more  than  six  hours  a  day,  unless  he  or  she  has 
obtained  the  certificate.  In  Paris  the  examination  ex- 
tends to  reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic,  the  elements  of 
geography,  history,  and  natural  science,  and  a  composi- 
tion on  some  familiar  subject,  especially  the  rights  and 
duties  of  citizens  —  a  branch  of  instruction  much  insisted 
on  in  French  schools.  A  scholar  of  13  or  14  unprovided 
with  his  eertificat  d'etudes  has  no  chance  of  admission  to 
a  higher  grade  or  technical  school,  and  year  by  year  such 
a  scholar  finds  himself  at  a  greater  disadvantage  when  he 
presents  himself  in  the  industrial  market.  Employers 
everywhere  seem  to  value  the  certificate,  and  the  number 
of  such  employers  who  Fegard  its  possession  as  a  con- 
dition to  be  fulfilled  by  applicants  increases  every  year. 
It  is  hardly  necessary  to  say  that  in  public  companies,  in 
most  large  business  establishments,  and  in  all  branches 
of  the   public    service,   the    certificate  is  indispensable. 


i  '|  The  French  Leaving  Certificate 


M   ( •  >•  H.i  ipe  ii.  •  .i gly  "i  ii .  moral  effe<  I    ' (  '■  .1  le 

i>.  11. 1 1.  c  di •  •  ■    mi.  11 .  du  certifical  d'4tudes  qui  tiennenl 
|i  .  .  ipriti  en  haleine  el  1  on<  ourenl  ainsi  .1  d£veloppei 

Ii  .  habitudi  1  de  pei  idvdri 1  el  de  pon<  tualite1  dan  •  l< 

travail ' 

■■  1  here  1  an  be  little  doubl  that  the  leaving  <  ertifi<  ate 
system  .mil  the  itate  oi  publii   opinion  which  mitaini  it, 

c bine  to  exercise   1  itn mg  Influent  e  on  the  regulai 

attendi 1  ol  the  children.     A  scholai  who  Is  irregulai 

h  1 .  little  1  ham  e  oi  hui  i  eeding  al  the  examination  at  nil, 
in. I  iii .  . .  rtainly  no  1  ham  <•  ol  obtaining  ll  so  1  irly  n  1 
11  in  1  •,  .in. 1  .. >  ol  H  quii in:'.  1  he  1  ighl  to  go  ti  1  woi k 
bi  inn-  he  1 .  1  I  \mi  '.mi  e  the  bi  hoi  ira  ol  the  pi ivate 
in. 1  .  onfe  ■  iii mal    11  Iv iols  are  .ill   aliki    1  ligible  foi   the 

iiiiin  ii in. 1  h  n  e  I  he  ■  ni"'  ii\  e  •  fi  n  attending  it . 

1  hi  in. in. .  t  effei  1  "i  ii"'  law  ol   1 88  1  1  •  1 prove  the 

charactei  oi  the  Instruction  in  those  schoi il ■■.  and  to 
,,■(  ure  .i  high  average  ol  '  frequentation  '  in  them,  although 
they  are  no!  'ii"'1  tly  subjei  1  to  any  ! Itate  1  ontrol.  The 
one  criticism  which  1  have  heard  mosl  frequently  in 
Prance  1  *n  the  woi  king  <>i  il"'  sy  item  1  •  thai  the  Ii  m  al 

authorities  often  granl  the  certificate  on  rathei  1 sasy 

terms,  1  ipccially  where  tin-  demand  foi  |uvenile  laboui 
on  1 11  in .  1  •  a<  tive.  Bui  the  standard  ol  prom  icn<  v  1  • 
laid  i"  !"•  Improving,"  ' 

ImihIi.i    Inquiries  and   experience  have  since  con 
firmed  the  hopeful  forecasl  which  was  thus  expressed, 
.mil  |ustify  8  fullei  explanation  oi   some  administrative 
.in.i  . .iii. 'i  del  "i 

The  law  prescribes  thai  In  every  canton  there  shall 
be   in  Examining  Commission  composed  of!    11)  The 

1  Memorandum  on  the  working  ol  the  Kroi   School    13  torn  in 

\  m.  1  |i  .   1  1  in.  • .  in  .ii"  1. ..111111      1891. 


/'//,■  .v>  i  1 15 


Inspector  ol  Primary  Schools  for  the  district,  who  acts  as  i 

president.  (  •  I  several  head  tea<  hern  ol  l*i  tmm  j  S<  hools, 

( \\  two  "i  more  persons,  i   .   I  iwyers,  dot  tors,  profi  ssoi  .  ml  »l<m 

,>i  othei   loi  al  residents,   spei  lally   nominated  bj    tin  '' '   ' 

Rcctoi  "i  the  Provincial  \cadom)  and  known  to  bi 
Interested  In  the  schools  1 1 1 <  •«  Cantonal  Commls 
sionefs  form  ••  Hoard,  whli  li  mcetM  regularly  nl  the  i  nd 
i>\  eat  ii  •<  hohiHl i<  yeai . 

[t  li  expressly  enjoined  thai  the  level  ol  the  educo 
tional  reaulrementH  shall  nol  1 1  so  abo>  1 1  tin  i 

ol  .i  good  primary  school     The  examination  In  parti)  nation, 
oral  and  partly  written.     1 1  i  m  ludcH 

(,/)    ,\  dictutlon  excrciHC  ol  iiboul  fifteen  IIiicn  ol 
print,  which  ••<  i  \  es  aim  •  as  n  tesl  •  ii  hand 

Will  III!', 

(/o    Questions  on  arlthmetii ,  the  metrli  systi  in  and 
Its  simple  applii  atlons,  twi  .  solution  m  w 

(,  )    a  i  omposition  cxen  Isi  on  one  ol  these  subjci  ts 
( 1 1  Moral  .md  (  n  i.    I  »ui\  .  (in  ii  Istory  and 
( leography  ,     1 1 1 1 1     iiiiiii  ni. ii  v    n<  ii  Ii  ins    <  'i 
!  Ii  iciK  i  .md  Its  applii  nl  ion.. 

(</>     lot  girls  an  exen  Isc  In  needlework,  and  foi 

in  »ys  in  rural  si  i Is  an  i  Kami  mil  li  in  mi  .in  i 

(  uIiiik  ,  .mil  iii  iii ban  ii  ii< ml.,  one  mi  draw Ing 
and  « i  •  .  i  g  1 1 . 

The  oral  porl  ol  the  examination  Includes  reading 

aloud,  '<-<  i i.i 1 1 1  hi  <>i  ' i  in  in  i  literary  i  Ktrui  l,  elthi  i  In 

prose  oi  verse,  with  questions  on  Its  moaning,  besides 
genei  ii  i [uesl Ions  In  history  and  gei igraphj 

a  ii  .tic  <  i|   in. ii  I. .  i .  officially   i'i<  icribed,  and  no 

i  .mi  I  id. lie  Hi  civCS  In,  (  (i  I  iln  .iii    iiiil>    ,  .  In    Hi  tJTC  I  III    I'  11  ll 

li.ih  tin-  in. ni. i  attainable  undei  eai  i»  ol  the  In  ads  ol  the 
examination, 


426  The  French  Leaving  Certificate 

Besides  these  obligatory  subjects,  the  candidate  may 
present  himself  or  herself  for  an  additional  examination 
in  one  or  two  optional  {facultative)  subjects,  e.g.  drawing 
and  design.  Special  mention  is  made  on  the  certificate 
of  any  success  thus  attained. 
The  higher        Besides  the  ordinary  leaving  certificate,  another  of  a 

Certificate   like  kincl  nas  Deen  Provided  for  scholars  of  the  higher 
for  grade  school.     No  candidate  is  admissible  to  this  ex- 

))t'icl!f  amination  who  has  not  previously  obtained  the  elementary 
primaire  certificate;  and  therefore  no  minimum  age  has"  been 
supeneure.  ^xt^  for  acimission.  The  Commissioners  to  whom  the 
higher  duty  of  awarding  this  certificate  has  been  entrusted 
are  named  in  each  Department  by  the  Rector  of  the  Pro- 
vincial Academy.  They  include  inspectors,  professors 
in  colleges  or  secondary  schools,  and  lecturers  in  training 
colleges.  Two  ladies  at  least  are  nominated  as  members 
of  each  Commission,  and  are  specially  charged  with 
the  direction  and  supervision  of  the  examinations  for 
girls. 

The  examination  for  these  higher  certificates  is 
attended  for  the  most  part  by  scholars  at  the  end  of  the 
fifteenth  or  sixteenth  year,  who  have  pursued  their  studies 
in  some  higher  grade  school.  It  is  open,  however,  to 
other  candidates  who  fulfil  the  necessary  conditions  as  to 
age  and  previous  certification.  These  higher  grade 
schools  are,  as  has  been  fully  and  very  clearly  shown  by 
Mr  Morant,1  not  secondary  schools,  but  primary  schools 
with  a  developed  programme,  intended  to  carry  forward 
the  elementary  school  work  on  the  same  lines  up  to  the 
age  of  1 6.  As  I  have  explained  in  the  Memorandum 
already  quoted:  "They  are  officially  described  as  de- 
signed for  those  scholars  for  whom  elementary  education 

1  The  French  System  of  Higher  Primary  Schools,  p.  287  in 
Special  Reports  on  Educational  Subjects,  1897. 


Subjects  for  advanced  Schools  427 

properly  so  called  is  not  sufficient  and  for  whose  needs 
secondary  education  would  be  inappropriate."  They  are 
not,  in  fact,  secondary  schools,  the  instruction  in  them 
is  perfectly  gratuitous,  and  they  form  an  integral  part  of 
organized  primary  instruction.  No  Latin  or  Greek  is 
taught  in  them;  they  stand  in  no  relation  to  the  lycees  or 
the  colleges,  and  they  form  no  part  of  a  scheme  providing 
a  "ladder"  from  the  Kindergarten  to  the  University. 
Their  aim  is  not  to  lift  the  pupil  out  of  the  ranks  of  the 
industrial  class,  but  to  enable  him  to  occupy  a  higher 
and  more  honourable  place  within  that  class.  They 
seek  to  provide  education  specially  fitted  for  the  skilled 
artizan  or  merchant's  clerk,  and  their  chief  attention  is 
given  to  drawing,  to  comptabilite,  to  science,  especially  to 
physics,  chemistry,  and  mathematics;  and  to  the  acqui- 
sition of  one  modern  language.  In  several  of  these 
schools  special  attention  is  given  to  manual  training,  to 
the  use  of  tools  and  instruments,  and  to  the  learning  of 
trades. 

This   being  the  general   aim   of   the  higher   grade  The  sub- 
primary  school,  the  Ccrtifieat  d' Etudes  prima  ires  supe-  Jefcts  fn~j 
rieures  corresponds  in  the  main  to  the  curriculum   of  ofexami- 
those  schools.     The  examination,  which  is  partly  oral  nallon- 
and   partly   by   written    papers,    extends    to    five    sub- 
jects:— 

(a)  A  composition  in  French,  consisting  of  a  letter, 

a  narrative  —  (reeit,  compte  rendu  ou  rapport, 
developpement  d' 'tine  maxime,  etc.). 

(b)  A  paper  on  history  and  geography. 

(e)     An  exercise  in  mathematics  and  in  the  elements 
of  physical  and  natural  science. 

(d)     Design  and  geometrical  drawing. 


428  The  French  Leaving  Certificate 

(e)     An  exercise,  in   one    modern    language  at  the 
choice  of  the  candidate,   German,  English, 
Italian,  Spanish,  or  Arabic.      An  easy  piece 
of  translation  is  given  of  some  passage  not 
prescribed  beforehand,  but  the  candidate  is 
permitted  to  use  a  lexicon. 
Under   each   of    these   five   heads   there    are    three 
distinct  forms  of  examination  corresponding   to   three 
several    programmes   adopted    in   the    schools,  viz.  :  — 
(i)  the  section  for  general  instruction,  (2)  the  industrial 
section,  and  (3)  the  commercial  section.     Candidates  in 
inserting  their  names  at  the  outset  are  required  to  specify 
the  section  in  which  they  severally  desire  to  be  included. 
The  fifth   (<?)  of  the  departments   of  the  examination 
(modern  languages)  may  be  dispensed  with  in  the  case 
of  those  who  select  the  industrial  or  agricultural  section, 
but  is  obligatory  on  all  who  present  themselves  in  section 
(1)  or  (3).     There  are  further  special  practical  tests  of 
proficiency  in  music,  manual  work,  or  gymnastics;  and 
success  attained  in  one  of  them  is  recorded  to  the  credit 
of  the  student.     The  certificates  thus  awarded  are  de- 
livered to  the  candidates  in  a  public  ceremony  by  the 
Rector  of  the  Provincial  Academy,  and  in  the  presence 
of  the  municipal  authorities  and  the  parents. 
The  It  is  an  important  feature  of  the  whole  scheme  that 

leaving      ^e  examinations  are  not  competitive,  and  are  not  de- 

examina-  l 

tion  not      signed  to  single  out  scholars  for  special  distinction.    That 

competi-     purp0se  —  a  very  legitimate  one  —  is  to  be  fulfilled,  if 

at  all,  by  other  agencies.     On    this  point  M.  Greard 

says : — 

"  Que  certaines  recompenses  soient  mises  au  concours,  cela  est 
desirable  et  n'a  rien  de  dangereux.  Mais,  trop  souvent  renouvele 
et  applique  au  resultat  proprement  dit  des  etudes,  le  concours  a  pour 
effet  d'incliner  les  mattres  et  les  eleves  a  la  recherche  des  succes 


Statistics  and  results  429 

d'eclat,  et  rien  ne  serait  plus  prejudiciable  au  developpement  sage- 
ment  entendu  de  l'instruction  primaire.  Les  elites  arriveront  tou- 
jours  a  sortir  du  rang.  C'est  sur  la  masse  des  enfants  que  l'interet 
social  commande  d'exercer  une  action  efficace.  Qu'ils  sachent  que 
c'est  par  le  travail  de  tous  les  jours,  par  la  bonne  conduite  de  tous 
les  jours,  sous  les  yeux  de  leurs  camarades  ordinaires  et  de  leurs 
mattres  habituels,  leurs  jugesa  l'examen,  qu'ils  obtiendront  l'avance- 
ment  de  classe  propose  a.  leur  application  ou  le  certilicat  qui  en 
constate  le  profit  supreme :  c'est  la  seulement  que  peuvent  etre  la 
force  et  la  moralite  des  etudes   primaires." 1 

The  extent  to  which  this  system  prevails  in  France  Statistics. 
may  be  estimated  from  the  fact  that  during  the  sixteen 
years  in  which  it  has  been  in  existence  the  number  of 
candidates  and  the  proportion  of  successes  have  steadily 
increased.  In  1897  the  total  number  of  scholars  pre- 
sented for  examination  was  236,859,  of  whom  129,460 
were  boys  and  107,355  were  girls.  The  number  of 
certificates  awarded  was  101,309  to  boys  and  84,726  to 
girls,  making  a  total  of  186,035,  and  showing  an  average 
of  78.5  per  cent,  of  successful  candidates.  Besides  these, 
the  number  of  scholars  presenting  themselves  for  the 
higher  examination  was  2,064,  °f  whom  1,224  passed 
and  obtained  the  diploma. 

In  practice,  the  system  is  found  to  fulfil  several  im-  The  prac- 
portant  purposes.     It  gives  to  teachers  a  clearly  defined  Ifa^1 
standard  of  the  proper  work  of  an  elementary  school,  system. 
and  indicates  the  goal  which  ought  to  be  reached  in  the 
twelfth  or  thirteenth  year  by  every  fairly  instructed  child 
in  such  a  school.     It  strengthens  the  hands  of  the  teacher 
by  supplying  his  scholars  with  an  additional  motive  for 
diligence,  and  with  a  new  interest  in  their  own  improve- 
ment.    It  is  specially  valued  by  parents,  as  an  attestation 
of  the  progress  of  their  children,  and  as  a  passport  to 

1  Education  et  instruction  par  Oct.  Greard,  Vice-Recteur  de 
l'Academie  de  Paris,  Membre  de  l'Academie  Francaise,  p.  85. 


430  The  French  Leaving  Certificate 

honourable  employment.  It  serves  as  an  entrance  ex- 
amination for  admission  to  higher  and  technical  schools, 
and  prevents  those  schools  from  being  encumbered  by 
the  presence  of  pupils  who  are  deficient  in  the  rudiments 
of  learning.  It  is  year  by  year  more  highly  appreciated 
by  the  heads  of  firms  and  other  employers  of  labour,  who 
are  accustomed  to  ask  for  it  before  admitting  young 
people  into  their  service.  Moreover  it  furnishes  a 
measure  of  the  efficiency  of  the  primary  schools,  and  a 
means  of  estimating  the  comparative  success  and  ability 
of  the  teachers. 

A  very  effective  illustration  of  the  actual  working  of 
the  system,  and  its  influence  on  the  home  life  of  the 
industrial  population,  is  furnished  to  me  in  a  letter  just 
received  from  a  friend  who  has  been  travelling  some  time 
in  rural  France.     He  says  :  — 

"  While  in  France,  I  came  across,  in  a  little  village 
home,  an  interesting  proof  of  the  value  set  by  parents 
and  children  on  the  primary  certificates,  and  a  young 
girl  gave  me  a  graphic  account  of  the  incidents  of,  and 
questions  set  in  the  examinations  which  she  and  her 
sister  had  in  different  years  succeeded  in  passing.  She 
was  now  about  seventeen,  but  the  examination  five  years 
before  had  evidently  been  one  of  the  most  important 
events  of  her  life.  I  was  much  struck  by  the  effect 
which  this  all-round  test  had  evidently  had  on  the  course 
of  her  education.  So  far  as  her  training  went,  she  was 
an  educated  girl,  her  school  studies  had  not  been  patchy 
or  disconnected,  but  formed  a  well-balanced  whole. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  the  delightfully  refined  peasant 
mother,  the  beautifully  clean  living-room  of  the  cottage, 
the  neatly  framed  certificates  on  the  wall,  or  the  radiant 
pride  with  which  she  spoke  when  I  noticed  them  :  and 
then  our  talk  with  the   young   girl    herself,  one  of  the 


The  English  'Standards*  431 

daughters  who  had  won  the  certificates,  —  her  self-posses- 
sion, her  modest  pleasure  in  recalling  all  the  circumstances 
of  that  memorable  examination,  and  the  cultivated 
balance  of  mind  and  bearing  which  shewed  itself  in 
all  her  conversation." 

This    French    experience   is   not   without   a   special  The 
significance   for   ourselves  at   the   present   stage  of  our  ^'J"f 
educational   history.     We  have    arrived   by  a  series  of  experience 
tentative    efforts  at  a  point  at  which  it  is  desirable   to^f  ./ 
review  the  work  of  our  elementary  school  system  ;  to  ask  that  have 
whether  it  has   accomplished  all   that  it  was   hoped    \.o-ve{to,'e 

r  l  solved  1  ii 

achieve  or  is  capable  of  achieving ;  and  to  set   before  England. 
ourselves  a  more  clearly  defined  ideal  of  the  purposes 
which  a  good  primary  school  ought  to  fulfil. 

Hitherto  the  Education  Department  has  sought  to  °H>' 
attain  its  end  by  laying  down  with  great  precision  the 
steps  by  which  the  elementary  course  should  be  graduated 
and  by  defining  the  subjects  and  the  degrees  of  attain- 
ment which  are  appropriate  respectively  to  the  years  of 
study  from  the  seventh  year  to  the  age  of  fourteen.  For 
a  time,  these  regulations  were  practically  enforced  through 
the  plan  of  assessing  the  amount  of  public  grant  payable 
to  each  school  by  counting  the  number  of  passes  after 
individual  examination.  Although  this  plan  has  been 
abandoned,  the  amount  claimable  by  the  several  bodies 
of  local  managers,  as  their  share  of  the  Parliamentary 
grant,  is  still  to  some  extent  determined  by  the  number 
of  subjects  taken  up  in  a  school,  and  by  the  results  of 
individual  examination,  as  recorded  in  the  Inspector's 
report.  Experience  has  shown  that  these  regulations 
have  had  some  effects,  both  favourable  and  unfavourable, 
on  the  general  progress  of  education. 

On  the  one  hand,  it  has  been  found  that  prescribed 


432  The  French  Leaving  Certificate 

Their  standards  of  examination  and  attainment  for  each  year, 
even  with  the  large  range  of  options  permitted  by  the 
Code,  often  interfered  injuriously  with  the  liberty  of 
classification,  and  with  the  teacher's  power  to  adapt  his 
methods  to  the  varied  requirements  of  his  scholars.  The 
connexion  of  the  results  of  each  examination  with  the 
award  of  a  money  payment,  and  often  with  the  amount 
of  a  teacher's  salary,  introduced  a  disturbing  mercenary 
element  into  his  calculations,  and  sometimes  tempted 
him  to  adopt  measures  designed  too  consciously  rather 
with  a  view  to  obtain  the  maximum  grant  than  to 
subserve  the  best  interests  of  the  scholars. 

Their  ad-  On  the  other  hand,  schedules  of  graduated  instruction 
"  a£es'  such  as  appear  in  the  appendices  to  the  English  Code 
have  their  value,  as  showing  what  is  the  amount  of 
acquirement  which  can  reasonably  be  expected  of  children 
at  the  successive  stages  of  their  school  career.  They 
serve  as  a  guide  both  to  teachers  and  inspectors ;  they 
give  definiteness  to  the  plans  of  all  the  members  of  a 
school  staff;  and  they  could  not  be  dispensed  with 
except  at  the  risk  of  much  looseness  and  incoherence, 
both  in  the  aims  and  in  the  practice  of  primary  instruc- 
tion. 

Individual       Moreover,   individual    examination,   though    an   un- 

examina-  satisfactory  method  of  computing  a  money  grant,  un- 
questionably acts  as  a  safeguard  for  thoroughness  and 
exactness,  and  as  the  best  measure  of  a  scholar's  progress. 
It  is  held  to  be  indispensable  in  all  higher  schools  and 
universities,  that  such  examination  should  be  conducted, 
in  part  at  least,  by  external  authority  and  not  wholly  by 
the  teachers  themselves.  Nobody  proposes  to  substitute 
a  mere  general  inspection  of  methods  and  organization 
for  actual  individual  examination  in  our  secondary  and 
public  schools.     No  parent  in  such  a  school  would  be 


Individual  Examination  433 

satisfied  to  learn  that  his  son  belonged  to  a  class  which 
was  certified  by  an  inspector  to  be  well  ordered  and 
taught.  He  would  desire  to  know  in  fuller  detail  the 
status  and  progress  of  the  particular  pupil  in  whom  he 
was  most  interested. 

It  is  to  be  feared  that  the  association  in  the  minds  of 
English  elementary  teachers  between  individual  examina- 
tion and  a  wrong  and  discredited  mode  of  distributing 
public  money,  has  led  to  a  belief  that  the  examination  of 
the  actual  attainments  of  individual  scholars  is  in  itself 
an  error  in  our  educational  policy  and  even  a  grievance  to 
teachers.  Yet  it  is  one  of  the  truest  tests  of  the  efficiency 
of  an  educational  system.  The  inductive  method  of  in- 
vestigation and  verification,  which  is  now  employed  in  all 
departments  of  science,  which  judges  the  worth  of  theories 
and  methods,  by  asking  what  is  their  practical  outcome  and 
result,  and  which  refuses  to  assume  that  any  one  method 
is  necessarily  the  best  until  it  is  subjected  to  the  test  of 
experiment,  must  ever  find  its  due  place  in  any  system 
of  organized  public  instruction.  Provided  that  we  secure 
in  the  first  place  a  right  conception  of  the  results  which 
ought  to  be  attained,  and  in  the  second  a  skilful  and 
impartial  method  of  appraising  those  results,  schools 
and  educational  processes  must  always  to  some  extent 
be  estimated  by  the  results  which  they  can  produce. 
Careful  individual  examination  is  needed  for  the  due 
satisfaction  of  parents  and  of  school  managers,  for  the 
proper  award  of  any  prize  or  distinction  which  the  school 
may  provide,  and  for  the  protection  of  the  interests  of 
the  less  forward  scholars  who  are  not  likely  to  win  any 
distinction.  And  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  responsible 
public  authorities  can  dispense  with  it,  if  they  would 
maintain  a  high  standard  of  excellence  in  either  the  work 
or  the  methods  of  our  schools. 


434 


The  French  Leaving  Certificate 


The  limi- 
tations to 
its  tisefal- 
ness. 


But  it  is  desirable  that  we  should  recognize  fairly  the 
necessary  limits  to  any  system  of  individual  examination. 
All  good  teachers  know  that  the  best  part  of  their  work 
cannot  be  measured  by  any  examiners,  however  skilful 
and  sympathetic.  The  kindling  of  interest,  the  forma- 
tion of  taste  and  character,  the  habits  of  observation  and 
of  application,  the  love  of  reading,  and  the  aspiration 
after  further  knowledge  and  self-improvement  are  among 
the  best  and  highest  results  of  school  training.  Although 
these  things  are  of  supreme  importance,  they  are  pre- 
cisely the  results  which  cannot  be  adequately  tested  by 
examination.  At  the  same  time  the  history  of  the  past 
shows  that  these  results  are  generally  secured  incident- 
ally and  most  effectively  in  those  schools  in  which  the 
intellectual  level  is  highest,  and  in  which  work  of  the 
ordinary  educational  type  is  most  honestly  and  syste- 
matically done.  We  have  to  admit,  once  for  all,  that 
there  is  an  inevitable  and  very  serious  drawback  to  the 
usefulness  of  examinations.  We  can  only  measure  what 
is  measurable.  Yet  while  some  of  the  more  precious  and 
less  palpable  results  of  instruction  may  escape  observation 
and  defy  the  analysis  of  examiners,  the  part  of  education 
which  takes  the  form  of  direct  instruction  and  is  capable 
of  being  tested  by  individual  examination,  is,  though  not 
the  highest  part,  yet  a  very  substantial  factor  in  the 
education  of  the  child.  We  have  learned  by  experience 
that  it  is  a  mistake  to  make  a,  fetish  of  the  examination 
system,  or  to  regard  it  as  a  satisfactory  or  final  solution 
for  all  our  educational  problems.  But  we  may  yet  have 
to  learn  that  it  would  be  an  equally  grave  mistake  to 
discard  it  altogether,  or  to  lose  sight  of  its  legitimate 
uses.  The  opposite  of  wrong  is  not  necessarily  right, 
and  it  must  be  manifest  to  all  who  are  intimately  ac- 
quainted with  the  subject  that  in  our  present  stage  of 


An  English  Leaving  Certificate  435 

educational  progress  we    cannot    safely   part   with    an 

instrument  which  constitutes  the  most  effective  safeguard 

we  have  yet  known  both  against  superficial  teaching  and 

inadequate  inspection. 

This  paper  is  written  in  the  belief  that  such  a  safe-  An 

guard   may   be   provided   by   one    thorough  and   well-  , <£". 

considered  final  examination,  adapted  to  test  the  result  certificate 

of  the  primary  school  course,  at  its  ordinary  termination  for  e;e~ 
1  ■>  '  J  mentary 

about  the  fourteenth  year.  If  the  standard  which  a  schools. 
well-instructed  child  ought  to  reach  by  that  age  is  once 
clearly  defined,  and  teachers  become  substantially  agreed 
as  to  the  end  to  be  attained,  the  necessity  of  an  authori- 
tative annual  examination  in  standards  to  a  large  extent 
disappears;  the  freedom  of  classification  and  the  choice 
of  methods  remain  with  the  teacher,  and  such  communi- 
cation to  parents  as  is  desirable  respecting  the  details  of 
a  scholar's  advancement  from  year  to  year  may  be  left 
wholly  to  the  local  school  authorities.  But  it  is  essential 
that  the  Education  Department,  which  is  responsible  not 
only  for  the  distribution  of  large  public  funds,  but  also 
for  the  maintenance  of  a  high  and  improving  ideal  of 
elementary  education  in  the  country,  should  know  from 
year  to  year  what  is  the  outcome  of  the  methods  pursued 
in  the  schools,  and  how  many  scholars  are  turned  out 
fairly  equipped  with  the  instruction  needed  for  the 
business  of  life. 

Separate  certificates  for  proficiency  in  certain  selected  Certificates 
subjects,  such  as  the  Science  and  Art  Department  has  ';^','// ''/,"" 
been  accustomed  to  award,  do  not  wholly  meet  the  need,  special 
The   encouragement  which   has   been   given    to    elder  s"'JcU 
scholars  and  pupil  teachers  to  work  for  a  science  certifi- 
cate, and  as  soon  as  it  is  obtained  to  try  for  another  in 
a  different  subject,  has  not  been  helpful  but  often  mis- 
chievous in  its  influence  on  the  general  education  of  the 


436  The  French  Leaving  Certificate 

student.  The  practice  of  dealing  with  the  parts  of 
instruction  piecemeal  and  making  separate  reports  and 
payments  in  respect  of  each  subject,  has  often  served  to 
dislocate  the  plans  of  good  teachers,  and  to  prevent 
them  from  considering  the  education  of  the  scholar  as  a 
whole.  The  plan  adopted  by  the  Scotch  Education 
Department  of  awarding  to  the  scholar  from  a  secondary 
school  leaving  certificates,  e.g.  in  mathematics,  in  Latin, 
Greek,  or  English,  at  the  choice  of  the  candidate,  may  be 
justified  by  the  fact  that  he  has  generally  reached  the 
age  at  which  it  is  legitimate  for  him  to  select  the  subject 
in  which  he  desires  to  distinguish  himself.  But  such 
a  leaving  certificate  carries  with  it  no  assurance  that  the 
holder  possesses  a  good  general  foundation  for  a  liberal 
education.  And  it  would  clearly  not  be  a  suitable  prece- 
dent for  the  leaving  certificate  of  the  elementary  school. 
Labour  Nor  can  the  labour  certificates  at  present  awarded  by 

jica  es.  t^e  Department  be  regarded  as  a  satisfactory  test  of 
school  work  from  an  educational  point  of  view.  So  long 
as  the  Elementary  Education  Act  of  1876,  and  the 
several  Acts  which  regulate  the  employment  of  children 
in  factories  and  workshops  remain  in  force,  the  award  of 
what  are  called  "certificates  of  proficiency"  must  con- 
tinue under  the  present  conditions.  But  these  certifi- 
cates attest  nothing  but  a  meagre  outfit  of  reading,  writing, 
and  arithmetic.  To  "reach"  a  standard  which  will  sat- 
isfy the  Act  of  Parliament  or  by-laws  of  a  School  Board 
district  is  to  give  little  or  no  evidence  of  general  know- 
ledge or  intelligence;  and  the  state  of  the  law  and  of 
public  opinion  which  accepts  the  passing  of  the  third  or 
fourth  standard  in  the  three  elementary  subjects  as  a 
reason  for  the  early  withdrawal  of  a  child  from  school  to 
labour  for  which  he  is  ill-prepared  is  as  injurious  in  its 
effect  on  the  schools  as  it  is  inimical  to  the  true  interests 


The  Scotch  Certificate  437 

of  the  scholars  and  their  parents.  A  legal  minimum  is 
often  interpreted  by  poor  parents  as  if  it  were  the  maxi- 
mum, or  at  least  as  if  it  were  sufficient;  and  the  official 
use  of  the  word  "  proficiency  "  in  connexion  with  the  bare 
requirements  of  a  low  standard  according  to  the  first 
schedule  in  the  appendix  of  the  Code  sometimes  conveys, 
to  those  whose  sympathy  with  educational  authorities  it 
is  of  the  utmost  importance  to  secure,  a  false  and  mis- 
leading impression.  Moreover,  the  fact  that  the  labour 
certificate  has  a  pecuniary  value  and  that  to  withhold  it 
from  a  family  struggling  with  poverty  seems  unkind  or 
inconsiderate,  often  causes  a  not  unreasonable  leniency 
in  the  examination,  and  materially  diminishes  the  educa- 
tional value  of  the  certificate.  It  may  well  be  doubted 
whether  the  imposition  of  legal  restraints  and  disabilities 
on  ill-instructed  children,  or  the  encouragement  of  early 
exemption  from  school  attendance  in  the  case  of  scholars 
who  happen  to  be  precocious  is  a  wise  expedient  for 
securing  the  true  improvement  which  we  all  desire. 
Probably  it  will  be  found  in  the  long  run  that  we  may 
rely  more  safely  on  measures  serving  to  keep  prominently 
in  public  view  the  goal  which  ought  to  be  reached,  and 
a  just  estimate  of  the  work  which  throughout  its  whole 
course  a  good  school  ought  to  do  for  its  pupils. 

From  this  point  of  view,  the  merit  certificate  provided  The  Scohh 
in  the  regulations  of  the  Scotch  Education  Department  "f^.'l^ 
deserves  the  attentive  consideration  of  school  authorities 
on  this  side  of  the  Tweed:  —  Article  29  of  the  Scotch 
Code  contains  this  provision :  — 

"  A  certificate  of  merit  will  be  granted  once  only  by  the  Depart- 
ment to  any  scholar  over  12  years  of  age  who  satisfies  the  Inspector 
that  he  has  attained  a  standard  of  thorough  efficiency  in  the  three 
elementary  subjects,  as  well  as  in  the  class  subjects  (at  least  two) 
professed  in  the  school. 


438  The  French  Leaving  Certificate 

"  The  managers  will  furnish  a  list  (on  a  schedule  supplied  by  the 
department  on  special  application  by  the  managers)  of  the  scholars 
to  be  presented  for  merit  certificates  ;  and  the  teacher  must  certify 
to  the  character  and  conduct  of  each  pupil  admitted  to  the  examina- 
tion. 

"The  merit  certificate  will  attest  thorough  efficiency  in  the  three 
elementary  subjects,  and  will  state  the  class  subjects  and  specific 
subjects  (if  any)  taken  by  the  scholar  to  whom  it  is  granted.  No 
merit  certificate  will  be  issued  to  a  scholar  who  has  not  mastered  all 
the  standards  set  forth  in  Article  28  (elementary  subjects)  or  who 
does  not  shew  ease  and  fluency  in  reading,  considerable  fluency  in 
writing  and  composition,  and  the  power  of  applying  the  rules  of 
arithmetic  in  a  way  likely  to  prove  useful  in  the  common  affairs  of 
life.     Some  test  of  mental  arithmetic  will  also  be  applied." 

Conditions       Thus  the  experience  gained  in  Foreign  countries, 
tobefid-     especially  that  of   the   Certificat  tfetudes  primaires  in 

filled  in  L  J  .... 

'applying    France  and  Belgium,  coincides  with  that  acquired   in 
this  ex-       t^e  northern  part  of  our  own  island,  and  reveals  the 

penence  \ 

to  Eng-      existence  of  a  want  which  our  English  system  does  not 

land.  supply.     In  seeking  to   apply   this   experience    to  our 

own   special    circumstances   and   needs,    two   or    three 

preliminary   considerations    appear    to    deserve    some 

weight:  — 

(1)  The  examination  should  not  be  competitive, 
and  should  not  have  for  its  prominent  object  the  dis- 
covery or  reward  of  exceptional  merit.  Its  purpose 
should  be  to  set  before  schools  and  scholars  generally 
the  nature  and  scope  of  a  good  elementary  education, 
and  to  offer  such  a  test  as  a  boy  or  girl  of  average 
diligence  and  intelligence  ought  to  attain. 

(2)  No  prize  or  immediate  pecuniary  advantage 
should  be  associated  with  it.  No  legal  enactment  need 
enforce  it,  and  no  penalty  should  be  incurred  by  those 
who  do  not  possess  it.  Its  value  should  depend  entirely 
on  the  quality  of  the  attainments  it  professed  to  attest, 


The  Primary  School  Course  439 

on  the  fairness  and  thoroughness  of  the  examination, 
and  on  the  increased  appreciation  year  by  year  of  the 
worth  of  a  good  education  on  the  part  of  parents  and  the 
public.  Considered  as  an  instrument  for  raising  and 
maintaining  the  standard  of  instruction,  the  award  of  a 
leaving  certificate  should  be  regarded  as  an  educational 
measure  only;  and  the  less  teachers  and  examiners  are 
liable  to  be  influenced  by  compassion  to  individuals,  or 
by  regard  to  the  pecuniary  effect  of  the  award,  the 
better. 

(3)  In  measuring  the  claims  of  a  scholar  to  receive 
a  certificate  regard  should  not  be  had  to  the  number  of 
subjects  he  takes  up,  or  to  the  grants  he  has  enabled  the 
school  to  earn.  Nor  should  any  authority  fix  the  relative 
importance  of  certain  subjects,  or  seek  to  enforce,  e.g. 
in  rural  districts,  the  study  of  agriculture,  or  in  great 
towns  the  study  either  of  commercial  account  keeping 
or  of  any  particular  local  handicraft.  The  chief  objects 
to  be  kept  in  view  are  to  secure  that  a  satisfactory  use 
has  been  made  of  a  good  elementary  course,  and  that  this 
course,  while  including  all  the  necessary  rudiments  of 
learning,  shall  leave  room  for  optional  subjects  adapted, 
in  different  places,  to  the  local  requirements  and  to  the 
particular  aptitudes  and  qualifications  of  teachers. 

These  general  conditions  being  premised,  it  remains  The  ideal 
to  consider  what  it  is  that  education  —  so  far  as  its  results  f'/J""1' 
are  ascertainable  by  examination  —  should  have  accom-  course. 
plished  for  a  scholar  who  quits  an  elementary  school  at 
the  age  of  thirteen  or  fourteen.     We  cannot  escape  the 
enumeration  of  details  or  the  authorization  of  some  sort 
of  syllabus,  although  we  may  admit  that  the  attention  of 
teachers  has  too  often  been  directed  rather  to  the  list  of 
separate  subjects  than  to  a  rounded  and  complete  scheme 
of  discipline  and  training  as  a  whole. 


440  The  French  Leaving  Certificate 

Now  the  curriculum  of  every  school  ought  to  com- 
prise :  — 

(i)  Reading,  writing,  and  arithmetic,  as  laid  down 
in  the  several  standards  of  the  Education  Department, 
up  to  the  seventh. 

(2)  The  English  language,  with  the  elements  of 
grammar  and  exercises  in  English  composition. 

(3)  The  outlines,  at  least,  of  British  geography  and 
English  history. 

(4)  The  rudiments  of  physical  and  experimental 
science. 

(5)  Some  acquaintance  with  good  literature,  and  the 
learning  by  heart  of  choice  passages  from  the  best 
authors. 

(6)  Drawing,  needlework  (for  girls),  and  for  boys 
some  other  form  of  manual  instruction. 

(7)  Moral  and  religious  instruction. 

This  item  is  not  placed  last  through  any  doubt  of  its 
supreme  importance,  but  simply  because  of  the  impossi- 
bility of  estimating  it  accurately,  and  because,  even  if  it 
admitted  of  exact  measurement,  the  officers  of  the  State 
are  not  the  persons  to  perform  the  task. 

In  regard  to  the  items  marked  1,  2,  3,  and  5,  it  is 
reasonable  to  expect  that  satisfactory  evidence  of  a 
tolerably  uniform  kind  might  be  expected  from  all  candi- 
dates alike.  As  to  4  and  6,  considerable  diversities  of 
plan  and  practice  may  properly  be  looked  for  and  en- 
couraged. In  science,  for  example,  one  school  may 
cultivate  mechanics,  chemistry,  or  some  other  subject 
having  a  visible  and  immediate  application  to  industry 
and  to  success  in  business  ;  and  another  may  prefer  the 
sciences  which,  intellectu  illy,  have  a  higher  value  though 
they  have  no  obvious  bearing  on  money-getting,  or  the 


Optional  Subjects  441 

business  of  life.  It  may  suffice  to  mention  two  examples 
of  what  is  here  meant.  Natural  history  —  the  study  of 
plants  and  animals,  the  classification  and  arrangement  of 
specimens  —  is  well  calculated  to  exercise  the  observant 
faculty,  and  to  train  the  scholar  to  accuracy  and  to 
systematic  thinking,  although  its  immediate  utility  is  not 
obvious  at  first  sight.  Astronomy,  too,  has  been  strangely 
neglected  in  school  curricula,  probably  because  it  is  of  no 
commercial  importance  and  no  prizes  are  obtainable  for 
pursuing  it.  Yet  there  is  no  study  better  calculated  to 
exalt  the  imagination,  to  enlarge  the  mental  horizon  of  the 
student,  and  to  help  him  to  know  the  universe  he  lives 
in,  and  his  own  place  in  it.  A  teacher  who  is  interested 
in  this  subject,  and  who  helps  his  scholars  to  observe  the 
motion  of  the  stars,  to  discriminate  fixed  stars  from 
planets,  and  to  know  something  of  the  moon  and  its 
phases,  ought  to  find  that  his  efforts  are  encouraged 
and  that  any  results  he  can  achieve  are  duly  recog- 
nized. 

Besides  its  regular  course  of  lessons,  as. prescribed  in 
its  time-table,  every  good  school  ought  to  do  something 
to  call  forth  latent  power  and  sympathy,  and  to  stimulate 
the  love  of  reading  and  enquiry,  and  the  desire  for  further 
knowledge.  The  teacher  who  devises  any  new  plan  for 
securing  these  objects  should  have  the  opportunity  of 
submitting  his  plan  to  the  official  examiner,  and  securing 
due  credit  for  any  optional  subject  which  has  a  truly 
formative  and  educational  character.  In  no  other  way 
can  we  hope  to  escape  from  a  stereotyped  and  barren 
routine,  and  to  enlist  in  the  development  of  national 
education  the  sympathies,  the  inventiveness,  and  the  varied 
knowledge  of  the  best  teachers. 

It  is  highly  desirable  that  some  part  of  the  examina-  Oral ex- 
tion  should  be  oral,  and   should  be   designed  rather  to a" 


442  The  French  Leaving  Certificate 

test  a  scholar's  general  intelligence,  his  knowledge  of  the 
meaning  of  what  he  reads,  and  his  interest  in  his  school 
work,  than  the  accuracy  of  his  information.  It  is  also 
important  that  a  certificate  of  good  character  and  at- 
tendance at  school  should  be  a  condition  precedent  to 
admission  to  examination. 
The  One  great  need  in  our  present  social  and  educational 

hJl.l°J„       arrangements     is    the    establishment    of    closer    relation 

between  ° 

school  and  between  the  school  and  the  scholar's  home.  The  public 
opinion  which  in  Scotland,  and  in  France,  Germany,  and 
Switzerland,  has  led  to  a  high  appreciation  of  the  bless- 
ings of  a  good  education,  hardly  exists  to  the  same 
extent  among  the  poorer  English  parents,  although  it  is 
yearly  becoming  more  pronounced.  It  is  greatly  helped 
by  school  lending  libraries,  by  school  savings  banks,  by 
scholarships  and  exhibitions  obtainable  by  merit,  and 
tenable  in  technical  or  other  higher  schools.  It  was  in 
some  degree  assisted  by  the  now  disused  duplicate 
schedule,  which  furnished  year  by  year  particulars  acces- 
sible to  the  parents,  and  enabled  them  to  tell  the  progress 
of  their  children.  It  would  probably  be  helped  yet 
more,  if  as  in  America  the  parents  were  annually  invited 
to  a  public  ceremony,  at  which  opportunity  was  afforded 
to  see  something  of  the  methods  pursued  in  the  school, 
and  of  the  results  produced.  But  it  would  be  most 
effectually  encouraged,  if  there  were  —  clearly  set  forth, 
and  intelligible  to  the  public  —  a  standard  of  attainment 
which  every  scholar  ought  to  reach  before  quitting  the 
elementary  school,  and  if  the  co-operation  of  the  parents 
were  sought  in  the  efforts  of  school  authorities  to  main- 
tain that  standard.  It  is  to  be  feared  that  among  the 
wage-earning  classes  there  is  at  present  a  very  imperfect 
recognition  of  the  fact  that  the  practical  difference  be- 
tween the  successful  and  the  unprosperous  man  is  largely 


The  relation  between  School  and  Home      443 


k;  undent  on  the  time  spent  in  preparation  for  the  busi- 
ness of  life.  Every  year  at  school  adds  to  the  worth  of 
a  youth  on  entering  the  labour  market,  and  gives  him  a 
better  chance  of  future  advancement.  And  as  it  would 
be  a  serious  mistake  to  increase  the  inducements  to 
shorten  the  period  of  school  life,  the  Leaving  Certificate 
should  in  no  case  be  granted  before  the  thirteenth  year, 
and  should  always  be  given  on  conditions  which  pre- 
suppose regular  application  up  to  that  age. 

It  may  be  added   that   the   value   of  the  certificate  The 
would  be  far  greater,  if  it  were  granted  under  the  direct  ^T  • 
authority  of  the  State,  than  if  School  Boards,  Managing  granted  by 
Committees,  or  individual  teachers   awarded   it.     There     .,' 

rather 

would  be  better  security  for  the  maintenance  of  a  uniform  than  by 

and  impartial  standard,   and   for   the    absence   of  local   '"' .'"'" 
r  '  thorities. 

and  personal  influence.  Moreover,  allowance  must 
be  made  for  a  very  natural  and  not  unreasonable  sen- 
timent, which  causes  the  average  parent  and  scholar  to 
regard  a  certificate  signed  by  a  public  officer,  such  as 
Her  Majesty's  Inspector  of  Schools,  as  a  document 
possessing  special  dignity  and  as  an  object  of  honourable 
ambition. 

In  summing  up  the  arguments  of  this  brief  paper,  it 
is  not  difficult  to  forecast  some  of  the  consequences 
which  might  be  expected  to  follow  from  the  official  issue 
of  leaving  certificates  by  the  Education  Department  to 
the  scholars  in  public  elementary  schools.  It  would 
certainly  have  the  effect  of  defining  more  exactly  the 
course  of  instruction  which  should  be  adopted  in  such 
schools ;  and  would  afford  an  additional  and  much- 
needed  safeguard  for  thoroughness  and  exactness  in 
instruction.  It  would  help  teachers  in  securing  discipline 
and  regular  attendance,  if  they  were  able  to  say  that 
without  these  they  would  not  feel  justified  in  certifying 


444  The  French  Leaving  Certificate 

that  the  scholar  was  eligible  to  be  examined.  It  would 
arouse  the  interest  and  sympathy  of  the  parents,  and 
give  them  a  new  motive  for  co-operating  with  the  school 
teachers.  It  would  greatly  faciliate  the  work  of  secondary 
and  technical  schools,  by  furnishing  them  with  an  appro- 
priate entrance  examination.  It  would  help  the  em- 
ployers of  labour  to  discriminate  among  the  applicants 
for  situations.  And  it  is  not  too  much  to  hope  that  by 
degrees  the  influence  of  the  system  would  serve  to  make 
clearer  in  the  eyes  of  the  public  the  relations  between 
character,  knowledge,  and  intelligence,  on  the  one  hand, 
and,  on  the  other,  the  honour,  prosperity,  and  usefulness 
of  the  citizen's  life. 


INDEX 


Allegories,  33 

Almshouses,  180 

Ambiguity,  60 

America :  its  schools  for  manual 
training,  152;  its  educational 
provision,  250;  Institute  of  In- 
struction, 256 

Analogy,  its  uses  and  limitations,  84 

Analysis  v.  Synthesis,  115 

Anytus,  65 

Apprenticeship,  148,  149 

Apposition,  135 

Arithmetic,  II 7 

Arnold,  Dr  Thomas,  273 

Arnold,  M.,  quoted,  17 

Art,  lectures  on,  324 

Ascham,  Roger,  215,  220,  223,  225 

Astronomy,  129,  441 

Athens,  its  condition  at  the  time  of 
Socrates,  47 

Atmosphere,  the  moral,  of  a  school, 
95 

Bacon  quoted,  13,  61,  123,  155 

Bacon,  Sir  Nicholas,  quoted,  236 

Baltimore  University,  207 

Barnard,  Henry,  254 

Bastiat,  Frederic,  69 

Beale,  Miss,  of  Cheltenham,  405 

Bedford,  Duke  of,  332 

Belgian  apprentice  schools,  149 

Bell,  Dr  Andrew :  his  career  in 
India,  337;  his  system,  338;  his 
preferments,  345 ;    his  character, 

35 1 

Bequest,  the  right  of,  199 

Bible,  a  teaching  book,  1        m 

Biography,  its  use  in  teaching  his- 
tory, 20 

Birkbeck,  Dr,  312 

Blundell,  Peter,  of  Tiverton,  quoted, 
239,  241 

Boarding  schools  and  houses,  279 — 
280 

Borth,  286 


Botany,  125 

British  and  Foreign  School  Society, 

327 
Brooks,    Bishop    Phillips,    quotecl, 

10,  264 
Browne,  Sir  Thomas,  quotecl,  197 
Browning,  Mr  Oscar,  273 
Brussels,  Ecole  Modele,  the,  161 
Buckle,  Mr,  93 
Buss,  Miss,  405 

Canada  and  its  educational  pro- 
vision, 251 

Canadian  Institutes,  260 

Carlyle,  1 1 2 

Catechisms,  384 

Catechising  in  Church,  385 

Ccrtijicat  d*  etudes  primaires,  422 

Certificate  hunting,  318 

Chrerephon,  65 

Charitable  foundations,  182 

Charity  Schools,  191 

Chautauqua,  263 

Chigwell  School  ordinances,  237 

Child  study,  139 

Children's  Services,  387 

Christ's  Hospital,  401 

Clarendon  Code,  the,  184 

Clodd,  Edward,  quoted,  92 

Code  Napoleon,  the,  216 

Coleridge  quoted,  20,  89,  9a,  114 

Colet,  Dean,  229 

Colston's  charities,  184 

Commandments,  the  Ten,  6 

Comte,  140,  202 

Conference:  the  Head  Masters', 
304;    the  Head  Mistresses',  305 

Co-optation,  212 

Corporate  spirit  among  teachers, 
the,  269 

Crabbe,  his  description  of  private 
school,  328 

Cranmer,  240 

Creeds  and  formularies,  22 

Crito,  77 


445 


446 


Index 


Darwin,  Charles,  81,  98,  104,  112 

David,  31 

David,  Herr,  on  Musical  teaching, 

296 
Decoration  of  the  school-room,  298 
Deductive  reasoning,  115,  116 
Defoe,  on  the  education  of  women, 

399 
Degeneration,  101 
Degrees,  for  women,  412 
Delphic  oracle,  the,  65 
Deuteronomy,  8 
Didactic  teaching,  90 
Diderot,  L'jtcole,  1 56 
Diffusion  of  Useful  Knowledge,  the 

Society  for,  311 
Disputations,  235 
Divergence,  the  law  of,  104 
Doles,  187 
Drawing,  162 

Acoles  professionelles  in  France,  155 
Economic  Science,  322 
Edinburgh  Review,  339 
Educational  charities,  190 
Elective  studies,  108 
Elementary  teachers,  315 
Eliot,  George,  quoted,  101 
Elizabeth,  Queen,  227 
Endowed  Schools  Commission,  196 
Endowed  Schools  Act,  403 
Endowments,  177;    for  women,  398 
English,  the  teaching  of,  290 
Environment,  the  law  of,  92 
Epictetus  quoted,  57 
Erasmus,  220,  231 
Euclid,  116 

Evolution,  the  doctrine  of,  82 
Examination,  individual,  432 

Falk,  216 

lanshaw,  Sir  Thomas,  quoted,  239 
Fees,  payment  of,  239 
Fellowships  at  King's  College,  Cam- 
bridge, 273 
Formularies,  383 
French  leaving  certificate   421 
French  technical  schools,  155 
Frobel,  140,  158 
Fuller  quoted,  228 


Gay  quoted,  35 
Geometry,  116 
George  III.,  334 
Gibbon, 142 

Gilman,  President,  quoted.  207 
Girard  College,  Philadelphia,  185 
Girls'  education,  241 
—     Public  Day  School  Company, 

405 
Girton  College,  410 
Glauco,  54 
Gorgias,  60 

Governing  bodies  of  schools,  21 1 
Grammar  Schools,  14 1 
Grammar  school  theory,  the,  242 
Greard,  M.,  quoted,  428 
Greek  language,  the,  218,  244 
Greenwich  Hospital,  182 
Grey,  Lady  Jane,  and  her  studies, 

226,  397 
Grote,  Mr,  quoted,  62,  66,  67 
Guild,  the  Teachers',  249 

Handicraft,  66,  146 
Hastings,  Lady  Betty,  399 
Hebrew  Poetry,  characteristics  of, 

19 
Hegel,  63 
Herbart,  133 
Herbert's  Jacula  Prudentutn,  25 

History,  318,  319 
Holmes,  Oliver  W.,  quoted,  361 
Home  influence,  371 
Huxley,  Mr,  quoted,  103 

Inductive  exercises  in  language,  134 
Inductive  reasoning,  115,  123 
Institutes,   Teachers',    in    America, 

253,  255 
Isaiah's  prophecies,  16,  35 
Italy,  state  of,  in  16th  century,  227 

Jesuits,  the,  221 
John,  St,  a  Platonist,  53 
John,  St,  New  Brunswick,  meeting 
at,  260 

Kent,  Duke  of,  336 
Kindergarten,  the,  140 
Knox,  John,  216 


index 


447 


Labour  certificates,  436 

Lancaster,  Joseph :  his  early  life, 
330;  his  books,  328;  his  methods, 
340 ;  his  successes,  336;  his  fail- 
ures, 347;  his  character,  352 

Language  studies,  247 

Latin  the  language  of  the  Mediaeval 
Church,  218 

Leach,  Mr  A.  F.,  222 

Lecky,  Mr,  quoted,  196 

Lectures,  University  Extension,  312 

Leeds  and  the  Yorkshire  College, 

153 

Libraries,  Sunday  School,  377 

Literature,  English,  320 

Louth  Grammar  School,  230 

Luther,  219,  220 

Lykon,  76 

Lvlv,  John,   first  High   Master  of 

St.  Paul's  School,  231 
Lyon,  John,  founder  of  Harrow,  229 

Macaulay,  Lord,  quoted,  50 
Madras  system,  337,  343 
Magnus,  Sir  Philip,  quoted,  175 
Manchester  Grammar  School,  230 
Manual    training,    147,     160,    164, 

440 
Mason,  Sir  Josiah  and  his  gifts,  208 
Measures  and  multiples,  118 
Mechanics'  Institutes,  312 
Melitus,  76 
Memory,  Verbal,  382 
Meno,  the  Sophist,  70 
Meteorology,  130 
Mill,  J.  S.,  quoted,  102,  203 
Milton,  228 
Mistresses,  the  Conference  of  Head, 

30.5 
Monitorial  system,  the,  339 
Morant,  Mr,  quoted,  426 
More,  Hannah,  367 
Morley,  Mr  John,  quoted,  25 
Moses  as  a  lawgiver,  6 — 8 
Mulcaster,  238 
Music  at  Uppingham,  295 

Narrative  power,  29 

National  Society,  the,  327,  33S,  343 

Natural  history,  125,  127,  322 


Natural  selection,  97 
Needlework,  172 
Newnham  College,  41 1 
Newport,  R.  I.,  meeting  at,  254 

Object  lessons,  131 
Optional  subjects,  441 
Oral  demonstration,  121 

—  Examination,  441 

Paley's  Evidences,  89 

Parables,  31 — 32;  of  Nature,  34 

Parker,  Mr  C.  S.,  quoted,  208,  221 

Parkin,  Mr  G.  R.,  274,  28 1 

Paul,  St,  his  vision,  41 ;   his  sermon 

at  Athens,  4S 
Paul's,  St,  School,  136,  403 
Pennsylvania,  College   Association, 

260 
Pericles,  49 
Pestalozzi,  158,  358;  characteristics 

of  his  teaching,  360;  his  religious 

purpose,  362 
Pfeiffer,  Mrs  E.,  415 
Phsedo,  the,  67 
Phsedrus,  75 
Plato,  53,  76 
Poetry,  as  a  lesson,  iS;  of  the  Bible, 

16 
Portrait  Gallery,  the  National,  28 
Precepts,  Moral,  87 
Pre-natal  existence,  73 
Preparation  for  Sunday-school  work, 

38i 

Primary  School  Course,  the,  430 
Prize  system,  the,  307 
Professions  for  women,  395,  41 S 
Proverbs,  24 

Provincial  Colleges  in  England,  409 
Punishments,  87,  237 

Quadrivium,  the,  233 

Questioning,  381 

Quick's  Educational  Reformers,  226 

Raikes,  Robert,  366 
Rawnsley,  Rev.  H.  D.,  274 
Reading  Circles  in  America,  265 
Reason  7'.  Understanding,  114 

—  training  of,  1 14 — 144 


448 


Index 


Religious  tests,  183 
Reminiscence,  the  doctrine  of,  72 
Renaissance,  the,  219 
Retford,  East,  School,  234 
Rewards,  13 
Rhetor's  Art,  the,  61 
Rousseau,  361 
Raskin,  Mr,  113,  129 

Scholemaster,  The,  225 

Schools    Inquiry  Commission,    the, 

193,  283;  Report  quoted,  406 
Science  and  Art  Department,  the, 

435 

Scotch  leaving  certificate,  437 

Scott,  Sir  Walter,  quoted,  217 

Seebohm,  Mr,  quoted,  232 

Seeley,  Prof.  Sir  John,  quoted,  12 

Sense  training,  360 

Sermon  on  the  Mount,  the,  II 

Shelley,  89 

Sherriff,  Laurence,  229 

Sidgwick,  Mr  Henry,  quoted,  245 

Sidgwick,  Mrs,  415 

Skrine,  Mr  J.  H.,  274,  285,  290, 
308,  309 

Slojd,  160 

Smiles's,  Dr,  books,  15 

Smith,  Sydney,  quoted,  99 

Spencer,  Mr  Herbert,  83 

Society  for  the  Diffusion  of  Useful 
Knowledge,  312 

Socrates,  his  life,  51 ;  his  conver- 
sations, 52;  his  disciples,  53; 
his  daifjLoiv,  63;  his  view  of 
physical  science,  67,  171 ;  his 
trial,  76;  death,  78 

Socratic  dialogue,  A,  54 

Solomon's  dream,  13,  41 

Sorbon,  Robert  de,  quoted,  136 

Stein,  216 

Strype,  quoted,  236 

Sturm  of  Strasburg,  220 

Sunday,  3,  369 

Sunday  Schools,  365 

Symbolical  teaching,  2 

Taylor,  Jeremy,  quoted,  168 


Teachers'  societies,  324 

Technical  Institute,  the  London,  154 

Technical  instruction,  145 

Theological  teaching  in  a  Sunday 
School,  389 

Thring,  Edward,  his  life,  274; 
his  experience  in  an  elementary 
school,  276;  his  books,  298; 
and  diaries,  304;  his  work  gene- 
rally, 308 

Toleration  Act,  the,  192 

Tone,  the,  of  a  school,  96 

Tragedy,  the  Greek,  93 

Training  Colleges  in  England,  313 

Training  of  teachers  in  America, 
252 

Trivium,  the,  233 

Turgot,  177 

Udal,  Nicholas,  225 
University  degrees  open  to  women, 
408,  413 

Extension,  309,  311 

Local  Examinations,  403 

of  London,  407 

Uppingham,  237,  279;    its  removal 

to  liorth,  285;  its  equipment, 
297;  variety  of  occupation,  292; 
and  of  games,  294 

Vacations,  237 
Variation  of  type,  106 
Verbal  analysis,  134 
Vision  and  meditation,  41 

Wayland,  Dr,  of  Brecon,  U.S.A.  257 
Whitbread,  Mr,  332 

Women   and   public   employments. 

396 
Women  as  teachers,  305 
Women  and  Universities,  394 
Women's  University,  A,  416 
Woolwich  Settlement,  the 
Words,  the  study  of,  57,  59 
Wordsworth,  quoted,  10,  74 
Worship,  Public,  387 

Xenophon,  53,  76 


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